Broken Pieces
by chocolate-moosey
Summary: Desperate to experience love, Ciel makes a rash decision that leads him down a path of intruige, murder, and the unnatural. Burdened with the repercussions, the earl plays into the hands of two of the cruelest beings that he and his butler have encountered. Sebastian/Ciel
1. Dictamnus

"**Broken Pieces"**

**Chapter One**

**Dictamnus**

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**This is the clean version of Broken Pieces. The unedited version is linked to on my profile.**

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**Broken Pieces has a sister story called 'Together Again' written by CheshireCity. If you would like to read, there is a link on my profile.**

**The second arc of Broken Pieces (chapters 9-15) are currently being rewritten. If you would like to read the old versions, please see the links on my profile.**

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"_There is a basin in the mind where words float around on thought and thought on sound and sight. Then there is a depth of thought untouched by words, and deeper still a gulf of formless feelings untouched by thought_."

Zora Neale Hurston (Their Eyes Were Watching God)

The smell of burning human flesh is an indescribable one.

Ciel Phantomhive had never stopped smelling it for six years.

But smelling wasn't enough to describe the intake. Burning flesh is not something you merely smell. It's something that will consume you. It's always present in your nose and deep, deep inside your lungs—one night you will lay down for bed, and an indescribable ashy sensation will roll out of your chest onto your palette. The taste of sweet, acrid,_ charring_ flesh is embedded on the back of your tongue, no matter how many times you vomit in the middle of the night or wash your mouth out with vodka. You will always feel the smoke slicked with burning fat over your skin. The crawling feeling of being covered by your mother's flesh is impossible to wash from your skin. The sight of your father's horror-stricken face half-devoured by flames cannot be erased. No words can take away the sound of timber cracking and moaning in the fire, constantly repeating in the back of your brain like a skipping record.

Ciel would always remember that last time he saw his mother smiling at him, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "We have a surprise for you, darling." She had told him that morning, smiling in her secretive way that made him grin with excitement in turn. "Go play with Sebastian outside while we get it ready, love."

Agreeing enthusiastically, Ciel had sprung from her embrace (the feeling of her fingers sliding over his shoulder as he broke away still crept over his skin) and bolted into the hall, where his father was walking towards the study.

He had laughed, never angry at his son for running like a normal child, and ruffled Ciel's hair as he shot past. "Slow down!" His father had called after him jovially. Ciel grinned over his shoulder at his father. The image of Vincent Phantomhive smiling warmly at his son as he ripped into the front hall would never leave him, etched into the backs his eyes with brilliant definition. It was such a stark contrast from the expression caught in mid-horror, with the smell of burning hair and skin.

He wished he'd told his parents he loved them.

"Sebastian!" The child cried as he collected his coat, summoning the borzoi from his usual perch on the stairs. The canine plodded to his master's side, nudging the back of his legs imploringly. Ciel smiled and stroked the animal's head before they started out the front doors and onto the grounds of the Phantomhive manor.

It was one of the first times that Ciel had been allowed out of the manor to play on the grounds without the supervision of his parents, having been sickly the majority of his youth. Though his mother had fretted constantly about letting her son out by his lonesome, Earl Phantomhive had assured his wife that Ciel knew better than to wander off too far or get into trouble. Besides, Vincent had assured Rachel, he would always have his faithful pet Sebastian at his side.

Ciel loved the lands that made up the estate. The shallow forest creeping around the manor had become his favorite playground in a few short weeks—and despite his mother's warnings and father's trust, he dared to delve a bit deeper into the woods every time he went to play.

"We're almost there." Ciel informed Sebastian, who started up at him with dark eyes, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. "I marked the tree with my pocketknife last time—see?" He gestured towards a shallow scar in a nearby fir: a simple CP. As Ciel marched along, the sticks and melting sleet crunched below his feet. Deeper and deeper they traveled, a small tune falling from Ciel's lips as they went:

"_Go to sleep my little baby. You will never come to harm—you are safe while mother holds you. Gently rest in peace and calm_." Whenever he couldn't sleep his mother would hold him to her breast, singing the Welsh tune in a low, sweet voice, swaying back and forth. His mother always smelled of something sweet and heavy—like rock sugar and aged tea. Scents heavy and calming enough to lull him into security. You're safe here.

Ciel froze, biting his lip. He had wandered awfully far into the forest by this point. Farther than he had ever gone before. There were no trunks blemished with the mark of his pocketknife here, just long, cold trees crossing their limbs above him like spider's fingers, blocking out the sky.

"Sebastian?" He cried, turning. The borzoi was nowhere to be found; nothing but the birds in the trees watched him with curious eyes. A burst of wind carrying the smell of smoke raced over Ciel's neck, suddenly reminding him of how very alone he was. Smoke meant that there was a fire roaring back home—perhaps that was part of his surprise? A story in front of the fire?

Ciel spun around and began to start towards the manor. A steady column of smoke was rising into the sky, marking where the mansion resided. But it was only moments before Ciel began to see that there was something wrong. There was too much smoke for just one fire—too much smoke for even every fireplace in the manor to be roaring and bright. What was happening? Why would there be so much fire—?

Scarlet and gold blinded the young boy as he stepped out of the woods. Fire. Fire all over his home. Fire rapidly crawling up the sides of the building and beating against the glass windows.

His parents—

His feet began to act of their own accord, pulling him through the front door, through the front hall which showed signs of a struggle, everything casting jagged shadows on the walls in flames. Sebastian was dead on the carpet, a smear of red below his body. Ciel was talking; maybe it was the dog's name. Takana was yelling something to him—possibly to get out—but the old man was cut off. Ciel continued deeper into his home falling all around him, pushing the door open to the library.

It hit him with full force.

Pungent, palpable _flesh_ burning in the air. All over his skin and in his lungs and in his mouth.

And his father—

Burning. Long since dead and slumped over the table. His face was already half-gone, consumed by the cruel red flames. A single brown eye stared back in shock, though the emotion was not intended for Ciel. Dizzy, the child took a step backwards, eyes flying to the floor where his mother was sprawled, her beautiful violet dress burned beyond recognizing, seared into her once flawless, ivory skin. His lungs were beginning to fill with smoke. If Ciel knew the story as well as he knew the ending, this would be the part where black would begin to creep over his vision and he'd awaken in a steel cage to be sold like a squirming animal. But the darkness never came; just the horrible sensation of inhaling ash and the scent of boiling blood again and again. There was something moving behind him.

Turning slowly in place, Ciel's eyes fell upon Sebastian. The wound had healed from the dog's chest, and it was advancing towards him slowly, its skeletal body warping and cracking as the bones changed. The animal's back arched, its vertebrae pressing against the black fur as it curled in on itself and stretched out into the lithe form of a cat.

"Master." Said the cat, blinking up at Ciel with those wine-colored eyes. Sebastian the cat—the _demon_—trilled a mewl and wound its way between his legs. Passing through the flames like a hand through water, the cat emerged as the butler, still staring at Ciel imploringly as he held up Earl Phantomhive's bloodied hand and gestured towards his ring. "I believe this belongs to you now, my lord."

Ciel nodded, his eyes darting from the ring to Sebastian and then back. "Bring it to me." He ordered. The demon smiled in the way that reminded Ciel of a cat with a secret.

"Surely my lord would be able to take on the Phantomhive estate with his own hands, would he not?" The butler asked smoothly. Ciel nodded and started forwards, allowing the flames to painlessly lick at his legs, the taste of his family disappearing from his palette. Sebastian calmly handed his master the late earl's blackened hand. Ciel took the limp flesh, noting how heavy and hot it was compared to his father's usual playful caress. Dead weight. Burning weight. He removed the ring and slid it on his finger, holding it up to admire its twinkling in the firelight.

Sebastian smiled. "Now it's upon you, my lord."

Before Ciel could ask what his butler meant, the acrid taste in his mouth returned full force, hitting his senses with agonizing intensity. He was being consumed by the flames while Sebastian watched, smiling serenely all the while. Searing hot, red, white as the mark scorched onto his back— Ciel tried to scream, to demand Sebastian to act, but he was choking in ash.

Ciel awoke with a startled noise, his cry finally breaking the thick seal between waking and sleeping. Instantly, his stomach began to churn with the putrid sensation still present in his mouth after nearly seven years. Taking several deep breaths through his nose, Ciel desperately attempted to calm himself:

'_It's just a dream_.' He repeated over and over in his head, though he knew after all this time that the mantra would never work. '_It's just a dream, you're fine_.'

Finding himself adequately calmed, the young earl released a heavy sigh, sinking into his mattress—however, the ash seemed to fall out of his lungs and back into his mouth, bringing forth another wave of nausea. Throwing the covers from his lap, Ciel stumbled through his bedroom and closet, finding just enough time to heave violently into the wash basin in his bathroom. The smell of vomit caused his insides to tumble once more and he wretched again, his entire body wracked with tremors as he coughed and spat. Cuffing tears from the corners of his eyes, Ciel slid to the floor at the base of his washstand, holding his face in his hands. His mouth burned with stomach acid and the sour taste of sick and he longed for a glass of water to wash the taste away.

Upon attempting to stand, Ciel found that his legs began to tremble violently and he collapsed once more, leaning over on his side to press his cheek to the cool bathroom tile. Everything hurt and shook; moving was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment.

Ciel shifted and gave a dry little laugh at his predicament—how pitiful he must appear! A great earl invested in the powers of an unstoppable demon curled up on the floor, shaking like a frightened child. It was pathetic. He tried again to stand, finding himself in a bit more luck the second time around.

Despite the weakness in his legs, Ciel was able to prop himself up on the washstand and take hold of the pitcher, taking care to avoid the washbasin filled with vomit. Dipping the tips of his fingers into the blessedly cool water, he pulled his hand down his face and chest, the cold streaks they created sending a wave of relief throughout his body. Ciel took up a handful of liquid and poured it over his face, allowing it to creep over his scalp and down his neck. There was no shame or logic in his actions now: he would do anything to calm himself of this wretched heat of fear.

Moments passed and, finally feeling a violent lurch in his stomach from the warm stench of vomit, Ciel decided to retire to his room. Despite the rapidly approaching fall, the air in the bedroom was stagnant and warm, brought on from the very last little flames dancing in the fireplace. Avoiding the hearth, Ciel reached up to the collar of his nightshirt, loosening three of the buttons with one hand as he threw back the curtains with the other. Night had swept over the grounds of the manor, dousing the courtyard below in a silver glow. The earl bit his lip and loosened the clasps on the window, throwing it open with a nearly-silent creak and shutter of the panes.

Frigid air flew into the room, fanning out Ciel's cotton shirt and pressing it to his slight frame. He suddenly regretted the decision as the water sticking to his neck chilled and a deep shiver coursed down his spine. First too hot, and now too cold. He pulled the window closed without sound and traveled back to his bed, curling up on the covers.

Insomnia came often for Ciel. Not nearly as frequent as the days immediately following That Month, but the occasional nightmare and seemingly-endless night seemed to have become a regular occurrence in the young earl's life since the trauma of six years back. Taking a deep breath, Ciel fell back onto his plush pillows, savoring the tepid sensation of fabric upon him. If he was ever going to get back to sleep, he would have to assess the meaning of the dream and promptly dismiss it.

What had been different? Obviously, Sebastian had not played a part in the murder of his parents and his kidnapping thereafter, and he had most certainly not twisted into being from the corpse of his hound. But he hadn't changed directly into his current form, had he? There had been a cat in the dream, and a challenge from the butler—

"_Now it's upon you, my lord._"

Ciel's hand flew to the ring still encircling his thumb. He had known in the dream that the demon had not been referring to it. Possibly the position as head of the Phantomhive family? But no… the words had carried much more weight to them than that. The teen's brow furrowed as he held his hand up, pondering the events of the dream. They could possibly hold the meaning to Sebastian's words. After putting on the ring, the pain had returned to Ciel, sharper than ever before. He had not merely passed out. In his dream he had died.

Scoffing softly, Ciel folded his hand back to his chest. Exhaustion and anxiety must have been clouding his mind, for the Sebastian in his dreams had obviously been referring to the tendency of each of his ancestors to drop dead in their prime.

Ciel would never be prideful enough to deny that he had never contemplated or feared death. In fact, Ciel feared it a great deal. Shaking, sore inside and out, hungry, dizzy and broken in the cage he had feared death. Though he knew it was the only way to the warm arms of his loving parents, to his salvation, he feared it. Because what if there was merely darkness? Pressing, nonexistent dark consuming him—like a dream, only absolute. Ciel Phantomhive: raped and scarified on the marble slab like so many of the others before him. All the others bathed in their own blood screaming and _screaming_ incoherently. There was no telling when the flash of the knife stopped and the flash of their bare flesh began. The only thing that was certain was when the screams finally subsided and their broken corpses were carted off the slab.

A bloody, extended death with no reassurance of a tranquil end. Ciel feared this, and Sebastian had erased those fears.

His end would come at the hand of the demon. Maybe it would hurt; maybe it would be swift and painless, but there was comfort in the fact that Ciel knew who would be his undoing and when. Once their contract was up, his soul was Sebastian's and was gone forever. Erased. No promise of heaven or hell, just pain and an abrupt end that were both guaranteed.

But who was to say when that contract ran out? His goal could be reached in as little as a day, and it would be over.

The nausea tumbled into his stomach once more. Ciel covered his eyes and released a tremulous sigh. He'd sold his soul to Sebastian for reassurance; he knew what he had gotten himself into. In any case, it wasn't as if he was lacking anything in his life. Wealth nor fame nor a comfortable lifestyle could do the heart well, but Ciel supposed that he could have been much worse off. While his servants did care about him, and what small portion of his family left did as well, Ciel no longer allowed himself to count their affections into his blessings. They were given. He was loved by his family as soon as he was born. He was loved by his servants for taking them in.

He was not loved in an intimate way.

Could that be what he would miss out on if his death came upon him earlier than he expected? Love? Fornication? Trifles that he heard the women gossiping about at parties that made Elizabeth blush and giggle over in the company of her friends while making doe eyes at her fiancée. He could certainly live without it.

Certainly…

The sickness was coming and going in waves, and Ciel's head began to pound. Why this again? His mind seemed to instantaneously float back to what he had yet to experience whenever thanotopsis set in. Rape was not the same as being tenderly caressed and adored, reveling in and sharing the passions of another human being. Blinding, dry, ripping, hot pain could never be compared to what he had heard was the ultimate of indulgences.

Before puberty had stirred within him, sex was a horror rather than a luxury in the eyes of Ciel Phantomhive. No one could get too close to his heart; no one could touch his body, for fear of them getting under his skin, for recreating that ripping pain. The thought of ever letting someone see his nakedness or place flesh to his flesh drew upon horrible fears. There were only two ever allowed to touch Ciel. One was himself, of course, and the other—

A deep blush settled on Ciel's cheeks. As he had grown, the stirrings within him had become increasingly difficult to push aside. By the time he was fifteen, it was not a rare occurrence to awaken with sticky thighs or worse—a throbbing hardness between his legs that he found could only be quelled by touching and simultaneous release. The thought of having the one other person allowed to touch him bring those sensations sent a warm ripple pooling through Ciel's stomach that settled between his thighs.

Though he had been abused, his body was still craving sex. Despite his constant sessions with his hand, Ciel knew that they would never be enough. He wanted that fire deep within him, all over his body and in his mind and soul. It was not unnatural to wish to be consumed by lust at least once in his lifetime.

Ciel sat up in bed, brushing the hair out of his marked eye, glowing faintly in the dark.

"Sebastian."

It was a whispered order, but he knew it had been heard. It was mere moments later when the door swung open with a soft click and in stepped the butler. Sebastian crossed the room with a calm, light step, kneeling at the side of his master's bed.

"Yes, my lord?" He inquired, awaiting further instruction as he folded his arm to his chest. Ciel noted dully that his usual vest and blazer were missing, his mind still swimming with the heavy implications of what he was about to demand.

"Sebastian." Ciel said in a calm, even tone. "Fuck me."

The butler started, garnet eyes flashing in shock as he met Ciel's apathetic gaze. He didn't have to ask. Ciel tilted his head to the side, regarding his servant lazily.

"You heard me." He whispered. "Fuck me. Now."

The room was silent. The heavy air of the fire and the cold of the window mixed above and around them, never quite meeting. Ciel sat perfectly still, eyes locked with Sebastian's. The earl's face was expressionless, but his heart was hammering against his chest. It was as if he were just realizing that the demon was in his room. His own words had hardly processed in his mind before it was too late.

"Yes, my lord."

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It was over.

"I apologize deeply, master." Sebastian said, holding up a blood-slicked finger. "It would appear that I was a bit too… rough for your body."

"No need." Ciel said flatly, staring at the ceiling as Sebastian climbed off of him and set to cleaning himself up. Sebastian crossed the room, returning moments later with the pitcher and washbasin full of crystal-clear water.

"You vomited."

"I did."

"Are you ill?"

"No."

"Ah."

Sebastian set the basin down on Ciel's nightstand, dampened a handkerchief he produced out of nowhere, and began to stroke down his lord's body, wiping the blood from his neck and between his legs.

"I'll retire to my room now, m'lord." Sebastian said, dropping the soiled cloth into the washbasin. Ciel watched blankly as Sebastian stepped into a sliver of moonlight: the blood within the basin defused, staining the water with curling red. Sebastian did not inquire further.

'_Stay with me_.'

Sebastian stepped over to the door, holding the frame lightly and glancing over his shoulder at the young earl.

"I'll prepare breakfast and wake you a bit later than usual, my lord. You'll need your rest."

'_Don't leave me here alone_.'

But the order was never spoken. The door closed and Sebastian was gone.

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"An odd request to come here, my lord." Sebastian said as they scaled the uneven brick steps. Small, worn names were engraved into each one, marking where remains of the dead had been scattered and long since blown away. Ciel did not reply as he made his way higher, lips drawn into a tight line. His legs, arms, and core ached and protested to the movement violently, causing another bout of nausea to tear through his stomach. If he replied to the demon now, he feared that he would whimper and give away the pain he was feeling.

Ciel pulled himself up to the top step, using his cane as a crutch. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he continued deeper into the cemetery, admiring the slate-grey headstones with a similar sky behind them. Turning, Ciel faced the Phantomhive family plot: it occupied a relatively large area of the upper cemetery, lined in white granite and decorative black iron. A light-colored burial chamber where his great grandparents and grandparents rested jutted over the other headstones, flanked on either side by statues of Demeter and Hestia, the later raising a stoker towards the demon and his master. Green vines were beginning to surround the feet of the crop goddess, who seemed to be worrying a wreath of grass and flowers between her hands.

Quietly, Ciel sat down on the concrete frame of the plot opposite them, staring with an intent expression at the newest and foremost marker.

**Vincent & Rachel Phantomhive**

**1858-1885 1859-1885**

**THE-LIGHT-OF-THE-SOUL**

**SHINES-BEYOND-ITS-TIME**

The silence stretched on, rustling Ciel's cape around his slender frame as he bowed his head and regarded the headstone before him expressionlessly. Sebastian shifted, folding his arms over his chest.

"If my lord is finished having a staring contest with a stone, we are growing ever late to our scheduled meeting with Barron—." He began, obviously irritated at his master's odd behavior.

"Shut _up_." Ciel hissed in the venomous tone that made it painfully clear that he was not to be trifled with. "It may be a stone to you, but monuments are precious things to humans."

The demon bowed, uttering a prompt apology—but Ciel was quick enough to catch the cocked eyebrow that was thrown his way. "What." The earl said coldly.

"If it is not out of place for me to say, my lord," The demon began, turning to watch the stationary tombstone as if it were about to do a trick. "I never considered you to be the sentimental type."

Suddenly, Ciel pushed up from his seat, holding the top of his cane so tightly that the silhouettes of his knuckles pressed against the fabric of his gloves. His eye was downcast and hidden by a sweep of dark pepper-colored hair. "Sebastian." He said lowly.

"Yes, master?" The demon stood to attention, folding one arm over his middle and bowing.

"Leave." Ciel whispered. Sebastian cocked his head to the side before bowing a second time.

"Yes my lord." He replied curtly. With a small disturbance in the air that left Ciel's cloak fluttering, the demon was gone; and Ciel was alone.

Setting his cane down on the lowest stair leading up to the plot, Ciel reached into his cloak, extracting a tiny bouquet of white dittanies. The long-stemmed flowers brushed against the earl's wrist (blessedly soft and cool, much like his mother's touch) as he set them before his parents' headstone, crouching to the ground beside it.

'_I shouldn't sully your grave like this._' He thought, pressing his brow against the cool granite, running his gloved hand against the engravings that made out his father's name. '_You would be disgusted in me for what I partook in last night—both of you_.' Ciel's hand curled into a fist as his breathing became tremulous. Something warm and horrible began to force on the base of his eyes, pressing and pricking and heating into tears. '_It isn't my place to cry. It isn't correct to cry because I'm not crying for you… even when I have promised myself I shall never cry again._'

"I have nowhere to turn." whispered Ciel. "I should bear this heavy sin alone, but…" His hand flew to his chest, grabbing and staining a handful of fine fabric. "I feel too disgusting. I'm far too confused for my own good."

He leaned back his head, as if to attempt pushing the tears back in—but it only served to allow them to roll down his cheeks in hot rivulets. "I'm a selfish child. I cry because I am confused and I want your consolation, though you aren't here to give me it. Not for your suffering. I'm just…" He furiously wiped the tears away, laughing bitterly. "Sebastian's right. I'm just a fool talking to a stone."

Pushing off of the ground, Ciel brushed his trousers off and collected his cane, glancing wearily over his shoulder once more before leaving to join his servant.


	2. Mentha Piperita

"**Broken Pieces"**

**Chapter Two**

**Mentha Piperita **

_"Tripping out, spinning around,_

_I'm underground, I fell down_

_yeah, I fell down_

_I'm freaking out_

_Where am I now?_

_Upside down_

_And I can't stop it now"_

Avril Lavigne (Alice)

Carriage rides, frankly, were horrible.

Ciel had never noticed the abundance of potholes dotting the beaten path between the manor and the cobblestone roads of London—which were hardly better off considering the terrible rocking they subjected the ill earl to.

"You look like death, m'lord." Sebastian had said that very morning when he brought Ciel a piping cup of tea. The earl yawned, scrubbing sleep from his eyes and resting his head against his pillow as his butler placed the bed tray over his lap. Instantly, the earl felt a violent wave of sickness swell into his stomach at the scent of Sebastian's usually tantalizing scones. He pushed the saucer away, shaking his head violently while gathering up the fine cup in his hands.

"I feel like it as well." Sighed the teen, staring deep into the porcelain cup. He relaxed, circling the edge of it with his fingernail. Today marked the beginning of his third week of violent nausea that lasted well until noon. Sebastian insisted it was from the slow shift from eating three square meals a day (as well as teatime in the afternoon), to merely eating two heavier meals in the afternoon and evening. This theory would've made perfect sense, if it were not for the fact that the illness had been the cause of the change in his eating schedule in the first place.

Sebastian sighed as Ciel regarded the scones with a foul look on his face, as if the butler had just placed a small diseased animal before him instead of a plate of pastries. "You should eat breakfast, young master. It may help settle your stomach."

"Tea is the only thing I can handle right now, Sebastian." Ciel huffed, wrapping his lips around the edge of the cup and taking a quick sip. "I thought I informed you of this—and why isn't this peppermint?"

Sebastian raised his hand to his temple, sighing softly. Ciel rolled his eyes. The butler had been getting more and more exasperated with him every day, it seemed. Ignoring Sebastian, he threw back his head and downed the rest of his tea in several gulps. The butler lightly caught his hand, making a vaguely pained expression.

"Master, it's not vodka." He frowned, wiping a trickle of tea that had fallen from the corner of Ciel's mouth. "And you are far from a drunk."

"I feel like one." Ciel muttered, slumping further back into his bed. "And besides, it's the only thing that will help."

"Still, that is no excuse." Sebastian fussed, collecting the scones and placing them back on the tray as he poured Ciel a half-cup of tea. "And to answer your earlier question, it is because my lord has gone through our supply of peppermint tea like Master Lau through a bag of opium."

"What a crude comparison." Ciel scowled, sipping his tea quickly and flushing as he watched Sebastian arch an eyebrow as if to say '_Really, now_?' The earl shook himself and placed the empty cup back on the tray. "As much as I enjoy white tea, I really must insist that you go into town and refill our supply of peppermint. It's the only thing that seems to sate this illness."

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian nodded, bowing quickly. "But_ I_ must insist that you accompany me."

"For what purpose?" Ciel inquired, holding a hand out for the morning press. Sebastian set the paper in his master's hand without question.

"With my young master ill as he is as of late, I would feel uncomfortable leaving him alone in the presence of—." As if to make his point, there was an awful crash from outside and a loud cry of: "I DIDN'T DO IT!" Sebastian and Ciel both winced as the earl unfolded the paper and shook his head.

"Would you be so kind as to check to see if anyone has been maimed?" Instructed Ciel, glancing over an article advocating the release of a series of detective stories that had been serialized in the paper over the past year.

"Certainly." The butler nodded, crossing his master's bedroom with utmost calm. He glanced out the window, turning back to Ciel. "It would appear as if Finnian and Bard have managed to completely shatter another window."

"Would you mind killing them for me?" Ciel asked casually, flipping the page of the paper. Sebastian smirked.

"That depends if you are serious or not, young master." He hummed, cracking his knuckles. Ciel released a dry laugh, shaking his head.

"No. But feel free to discipline them in any way you please." He ordered. "I'll need another few minutes to fully awaken; have a carriage ready for us in an hour."

"Right away." Sebastian bowed once more to Ciel before excusing himself from the room, grinning like an excited child that had just been allowed to write all over the walls. Ciel pondered for a moment if he should have given the demon the liberty of punishing the idiot cook and equally-minded gardener, but quickly dismissed the notion once he recalled that it was the sixth window that they had broken that month.

Groaning, Ciel pulled himself out from under the bed tray and shuffled through his closet and into the bathroom. Pausing at the mirror, the earl took a moment to observe himself.

Though his lean form was beginning to fill out into that of a young man, he certainly did look—just as Sebastian had suggested—like death. There were terrible bruise-like sweeps of purple beneath his eyes, highlighted against the pallor of his skin that had began to rival that of Undertaker.

With a heavy sigh that left his shoulders aching, Ciel filled his water basin and struggled to wash the sleep from his eyes, wincing when his stomach began to roll and squeeze in protest of the action. The teenager glanced back into his reflection, brushing away a strand of damp hair plastered to his face.

"Young master is as charming as ever."

Ciel nearly jumped from the sudden appearance of his servant in the doorway. The butler was still grinning, rolling down the sleeves of his dress shirt as he stepped into the room.

"That was quick." Ciel remarked, narrowly dodging the demon's blatant compliment.

"I'm very efficient at getting my point across." Smiled Sebastian, adjusting his tie as he beaconed Ciel into the closet. "I've set out your clothing and arranged for a carriage, just as you've instructed."

"Good." Nodded Ciel, allowing Sebastian to help him shed his night shirt and fit him with a pair of slate grey trousers and a ruffled dress shirt.

"The fresh air should help to relax you, master." Sebastian mused as Ciel shrugged into his favorite navy-blue waistcoat, holding out his wrist for the demon to adjust the silver cufflinks.

"Hopefully." Agreed the youth, rolling his neck to elicit several loud cracks. Suddenly, Sebastian's hands were secured around his shoulders, kneading at the stiff muscles gently. Ciel momentarily seized in surprise before relaxing into the sensation. Sebastian laughed softly, dropping his lips to Ciel's ear.

"Do you enjoy that, my lord?" He asked lowly, pressing his thumbs into the tense divots in his back, rolling the balls of his palms across the smooth plane.

"Uhn." Ciel hummed, sighing as slender fingers prodded out the knots along his spine. "How did you get so good at this?"

"Why it's only natural that a servant of the Phantomhive household would be able to do this." Sebastian rattled off, a smirk evident in his voice. Ciel scoffed at the line and rolled his eyes.

"Oh come off it." He sighed, smiling gently when Sebastian chuckled and began to secure his patch over his marked eye. "But I will admit that it is a pleasurable talent of yours. Why didn't you inform me of this before?"

Sebastian completed his present task and gently wrapped one hand around the back of Ciel's neck, the other around the small of his back. "Because I knew once you knew of this talent, you would never want my hands off of you."

Ciel shuttered, feeling the heat rush up to his cheeks. Well, at least his libido hadn't been compromised by the illness—

A sudden rapping on the door of the entrance room jolted the pair from their little world. Sebastian sighed in exasperation, crossing Ciel's room quickly, the earl on his heels, pushing the front most doors open in a crack.

"Yes, Maylene?" He asked. Ciel peered around his servant to see a head of strikingly red hair bobbing over Sebastian's shoulder.

"Sorry to interrupt your morning ritual, Master!" She cried, curtsying apologetically. "But I had a question for Mister Sebastian."

"_Yes_?" Sebastian prompted, tapping the doorframe in an irritated manner. Maylene shrunk into herself, hiding behind her sleeves.

"Well, uhm." She mumbled, blue eyes darting every which way save for the demon butler's face. "I—I was just wondering if Bard's arm was supposed to bend that way…"

"Most likely not." Sebastian shrugged. Ciel battled away a smirk, obscuring his lips behind his fingers as he retreated to his bed chamber.

"Uhm." Maylene shuffled from foot to foot in tiny steps. "Can you maybe… fix it?"

A small pause of deliberation. "I suppose." Hummed the butler. He glanced over his shoulder at Ciel. "My lord?"

"Go ahead; I have something to attend to." He waved the demon off, straightening his coat as both maid and butler bowed and went about their way. As soon as the door clicked closed, Ciel fell down onto his bed gracelessly, resting his hand to his chest.

'_That was… interesting._' He mused, feeling a giddy little smirk form on his lips despite himself. His back was still melting where Sebastian had touched him, the sensitive area below his ear still tingling where Sebastian's hot breath had fallen.

He felt like an idiot. His butler had been blatantly flirting with him, and he had, quite plainly, flirted back. It was a useless little game he played with himself—it wasn't as if Sebastian had not tormented him with bold-faced flirtations since he was twelve years old—but after the events of that certain night a month back, Ciel seized each of Sebastian's less-than-wholesome gestures as tiny signs that he felt something more than devotion for the earl. Ciel would not be such a vulgar sinner if there had been a hint of passion or feeling behind their fuck.

Ciel shook himself, realizing had he had subconsciously began to stroke at the sensitive mark on his neck where Sebastian had bitten him. He felt sick again, and suddenly wished that he'd eaten the scones as stomach acid burned and sloshed within him.

Mindful of not rumpling his clothing, Ciel leaned over onto his pillow, closing his eyes to listen to the sound of wind rushing through the dying leaves outside. It was obvious that his illness had stemmed from the night that he had spent with Sebastian—no matter how hard he scrubbed, he could never rid his body of the taint crawling over his skin and in his heart. He felt as if he had betrayed himself by sleeping with the demon.

He released a humorless chuckle, pulling his limbs close to his body. It was ironic how he felt like a sinner for sleeping with someone who did not love him, not because he had slept with a _demon_. It was so impossibly backwards that it made the guilt within him double. Though he was emotionally and physically worn to the point of breaking, Ciel could hardly sleep— as was evidenced by the shadows below his eyes. The sickness and the insomnia seemed to take turns invading his body; when one was present the other went into remission in an endless back-and-forth cycle that made him feel ill all over again.

The door opened quietly, Sebastian slipping into Ciel's room with a frustrated noise. "I apologize for the constant coming-and-going—." He turned his face to the young man curled up in the sheets, sleep clouding his eyes. "'Something to attend to', you said? Young master, you'll wreck your clothing." The demon fussed, brushing a lock of black hair from his eyes as he gently pulled Ciel into a sitting position. He allowed the action, holding neither the energy nor will required to fight the butler.

"I think I would like a scone after all." Ciel informed him, stepping off of the bed as Sebastian smoothed over the folds in his clothing. "Plain, if you'd please. I merely need to get something in my stomach."

After a brief meal of a scone and some of the most-definitely-not-peppermint tea, the carriage finally arrived and Sebastian wrapped Ciel in a warm, black cloak before ushering him out into the brisk fall air.

Later, faced with the terrible predicament of the carriage's rocking and swaying, Ciel had come to regret his decision concerning breakfast and curse the scone threatening to make its second appearance.

"I'm going to vomit." He informed Sebastian for the umpteenth time. The demon sighed, uncrossing and re-crossing his legs.

"You're not going to vomit, my lord." Sebastian assured him. "Just keep your head between your legs."

"_That's just making the problem worse!_" Snapped the earl, nearly retching as the swaying got the better of him. There was a soft noise as the demon shifted and his hand was upon Ciel's back for the second time that morning, moving in small circles.

"There now." He said, "Better?"

Feeling himself flush, Ciel nodded, keeping his face tucked between his legs as had been instructed. There was then a jolt as the dirt path shifted to cobblestone and Ciel feared for his internal organs.

"_Stop the carriage!_" He cried loud enough for the cabby to hear, and the horses whinnied as they were pulled to a halt. Ciel threw open the carriage door and sprang out, bracing himself against a nearby tree whilst he emptied the contents of his stomach. Coughing violently, he removed a handkerchief from the lapel of his coat and wiped his mouth, turning back to the carriage where Sebastian was waiting.

"Better?" He asked again, smiling benignly.

"Sod off." Ciel swore, scowling as Sebastian helped him back into the cab, climbing back in after him.

"Do you believe you'll be well enough to make tomorrow's appointment with Miss Elizabeth?" Sebastian asked casually as if Ciel had just not been sick. The earl made a face.

"Don't make me vomit again, Sebastian." He snorted; Sebastian frowned.

"Master." He chided. Ciel dismissed the oncoming lecture about the treatment of women with a half-hearted wave of his hand.

"I'm hardly in the mood, Sebastian." He huffed, folding his arms over his chest defensively. "And to answer your question, I'd prefer to rest for the next several days, rather than go to meetings. They only seem to worsen my condition."

Sebastian gave a low sniff that could've been a wry laugh, gazing out the window. Ciel decided not to pursue what his servant found so humorous in his words and sufficed for sitting in silent resignation for the remainder of the trip. His stomach thankfully seemed to have settled for the time being, allowing the journey to pass peacefully. Outside of the carriage, small, far-spread cottages soon became shops and then compacted markets and buildings. Finally, the cabby pulled up to the tea emporium, opening the door and extending a hand to Ciel.

"If you would be so kind," Sebastian said smoothly whilst snapping the cabby's hand out of the air, filling it with a fifty pound note. "As to pick us up in two hours' time, it would be greatly appreciated. My lord?"

With strangely gentle hands, Sebastian gathered Ciel up around the waist and lifted him from the carriage, lightly setting him down upon the pavement, much to the earl's embarrassment. The cabby was still reeling, oblivious as to how the butler had appeared outside the cab so quickly.

"I would appreciate it," said a chagrined Ciel through gritted teeth as they entered the shop with a jingle of the door. "If you refrained from carrying me around like a sack of rice in public."

"But young master, I didn't even toss you over my shoulder." Sebastian replied as they stopped at the counter. "This time." He added as an afterthought, smirking. Ciel smothered down what seemed like his millionth blush that day, groaning as the smell of four dozen different teas pervaded his senses. In the back of the shop, a young man cried out that he'd be quick to help them.

"The smell is too strong." Ciel informed the demon, removing his handkerchief to shield his nose, wincing when he rediscovered the foul smell of vomit still clinging to it. Sebastian took the soiled cloth from his hands, sliding his own handkerchief into the earl's grip. "I'll go stand out front while you purchase the tea."

"Yes, my lord." Came the automatic reply. "How much would you like me to purchase?"

Ciel paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder with a vaguely manic expression. "_All of it._"

Leaving a vaguely perturbed demon butler behind him, Ciel rested against the side of the building, propping himself up with his cane. Around him, London thrived. The streets were alive with vendors, businessmen, and small upper-class families dotting the cobblestone paths. A twitch of a smirk came to Ciel's lips when he spotted a small girl toting around Funtom's Bitter Rabbit.

Suddenly, Ciel's eye was met with a vibrant green set leering at him from across the street. A stunningly statuesque woman was openly gaping at him over the side of a black lacquered buggy. Ciel shifted, averting his gaze as the blonde was helped out by a stout cabby, fiddling with the golden buttons running down the length of her cranberry overcoat. She leaned over to whisper something to the cabby, her eyes still locked on Ciel. The small man grinned toothily at him and nodded before the woman flashed Ciel a brilliant smile and disappeared into a high-end fabric shop.

"Young master?"

Ciel turned towards Sebastian, who had just exited the tea emporium with a comically massive tin of peppermint tea in his arms. "Do you see something interesting?"

A single eye flew to where the black buggy was disappearing into traffic. "Nothing important. I believe I was just recognized by a civilian."

"Of course." Sebastian glanced down either side of the street. "Well, we still have just less than two hours to kill before our carriage returns. Any requests?"

"None in particular." Ciel shrugged. "I would enjoy a bag of roasted chestnuts, however." He hummed, staring intently at a vendor several meters down the road.

"Ill one moment and hungry the next." The demon shook his head, mumbling something along the lines of 'fickle as a woman'.

"You can be replaced." Ciel threatened, eye narrowing at the always-smirking demon.

"With all due respect, I highly doubt that, young master."

* * *

"I need to use your phone, Thomas." The blonde woman smiled, leaning her breasts on the polished wooden countertop. The mercer blanched and shook his head, scrambling for something beneath the counter.

"W-what a pleasure, Miss Fitzpatrick…" He stuttered, forcing a warm smile as he extracted a skeleton key and beckoned her to a door behind the counter. "Are you here to commission my daughter again? I'm afraid she's moved into a shop of her own, but I'll be glad to contact her for you."

The woman did not reply, merely slipping past the man and snatching the key from his grasp in one fluid movement. "I-is there an emergency, Miss?"

"A bit." She sighed, turning the handle and stepping into the storeroom. Thomas shuffled after her nervously, pitifully attempting to strike up a conversation.

"We've gotten several new types of silk imported from China, as you can see." He gestured towards the walls lined with thick rolls of fabric. The blonde continued towards the phone, ignoring his ramblings. "If you'd like to take a look at them lat—."

The bumbling little fellow crashed into the tall woman's back, his face buried in her sweet-scented tresses. Gasping, he back-pedaled and commenced to release a string of apologies: "I'm terribly sorry Miss Fitzpatrick! I wasn't thinking at all—!"

"Thomas." She said coolly. The man seized, staring at her with horrified little beads of eyes.

"M-miss?" He whispered. Suddenly, her hand shot out, landing on a plush roll of pink satin several inches from his face, flexing a neat row of perfectly-manicured claws around it.

"I do like this fabric." The blonde said silkily, pinning Thomas with her glowing eyes. "I think you should set this aside for my next commission. Tell Nina I'm interested in getting a new gown made."

"O-of course…" Whimpered the merchant, much to Miss Fitzpatrick's delight. Her claws then retracted into pointed fingernails and she went about her way, smiling pleasantly. The woman plucked up the telephone, spinning the appropriate numbers and releasing a dramatic sigh whilst the mercer trembled several feet away. After several rings, the telephone was finally answered.

"_A-allô ? Vous êtes bien chez les Brun_." A tiny voice came over the other line, most likely a servant.

"_Bonjour, pourrais-je parler à Cosette s'il vous plaît__?"_ Cooed Miss Fitzpatrick, twisting the telephone wire around her little finger.

"_A-ah ! Qui est-ce donc_?"

The blonde smiled. "Leona Fitzpatrick."

There was a delighted squeal over the other end of the line and the sound of a scuffle as the receiver was ripped from the maid's hand, ending in a bloodcurdling scream. Leona laughed airily. "Leona, my sweetness! La, I haven't heard from you in _ages_!"

"Cosette Brun, how are you?" Sighed Leona, resting against the wall beside the telephone. Cosette giggled happily, followed by the sound of crunching bones. The blonde frowned, straightening herself as her eyes narrowed in concern.

"Oooh, I could ask you the same thing Leona! How long has it been? Twenty-three years?" Cosette inquired in a chipper fashion. The crunching continued and all Leona could see in her mind's eye was an image of the brunette wringing a dead maid's wrist in excitement.

"Dearest, the last thing I want is to offend you; but I believe you just killed your servant in a fit of joy."

There was a pause, the sound of dead weight falling to the floor, and an embarrassed giggle. "Oooh, la! You know how I get when I hear from you, Leona. Now! What have you been up to?"

"Just the usual." Leona sighed, now fiddling with a strand of her blonde hair. "But I have a small problem that I may need your help with, Cosette."

"Oh?" Cosette quipped, her interest piqued.

"Yes, it specifically requires your… _expertise_." She added darkly. Silence on the other end, and then a low hum.

"Well, it depends if the incubus stayed by the human girl's side or not. If the male is out of the picture, then it's a simple procedure; but I take it he's stuck around if you've called from all the way out there." sighed Cosette.

"Oh no." Leona grinned toothily, her green eyes flashing in excitement. "It's not a human _girl_."

A pause followed by a horrible high-pitched set of giggles. "A man? A _man_!"

"What's more is that he's a fairly well-to-do Earl. One of the queen's watchdogs, I believe." Leona explained; Cosette continued with her awful guffaws, gasping for breath.

"_Ohhhh, la_!" The woman over the line exhaled softly as her giggles subsided. "Oh, Leona. I haven't heard anything this juicy in at _least_ three hundred years."

"I haven't even gotten to the best part." Leona whispered, cupping her hand around the receiver. "Our incubus in question," She held the information for dramatic effect. "_Belongs to the Earl_."

"_Belongs_?" Gasped Cosette as if she were hearing about some wretched scandal. Leona heard the sound of the younger woman's hand slapping her cheek in shock. "By contract, you mean?"

"By contract." Confirmed Leona. "I could smell it from all the way across the street—along with the _sickly_ sweet smell of course."

"I can see why you called me up, then!" Cosette tutted to herself. "Oh dear, I have a feeling this will prove to be quite a mess."

"When do you think you and your feathered friend will be able to come to town?" Leona inquired, glancing at Thomas as the frail little man began to bustle about the storeroom with nervous energy. Cosette sighed and began mumbling small dates and words to herself in a hasty mix of French and English.

"Well, if you'd like me to bring _him_ along…" She heaved a dramatic sigh, rattling off numbers. "I'd say Monday, at latest."

"Knowing you, it will be Tuesday." Leona mumbled. Cosette scoffed indignantly.

"Oh, poo! I'll be there when I'll be there, Leona!" She huffed. "And you're very welcome by the way!"

"Of course, of course." Leona nodded, waving her hand about half-heartedly. "I'll make sure to have the most comfortable arrangements for you two."

"Be sure to get plenty of those bath salts I like!" Cosette cried so loud that Leona had to hold the receiver a meter away from her ear. "You'll give them the usual message, then?"

"I'll be sure to do both." Leona smiled. "Goodbye, darling. I'll see you on Tuesday."

"_Monday_!" Cosette interjected, but was quickly silenced when Leona placed the receiver back into its cradle, stalking over to where Thomas was huddled over a square of fabric.

"Mister Hopkins?" She asked sweetly. The tiny man turned to face her, staring in horror. "Would you happen to have some parchment I could borrow?"

* * *

"Gone." Ciel mumbled, holding the police report in tight fists. "Completely gone overnight? And _just _this building?"

Fred Aberline nodded shakily, nervously picking up the cup of tea that had been offered to him by the dark butler lurking nearby. "If you keep reading, you'll find that there was minimal damage done to the surrounding buildings; the fire department was able to contain the fire by the time they arrived. We have solid evidence that it was arson."

"No doubt." Ciel snorted, shifting his position on the armchair opposite the young officer and sighing deeply. "How many were killed?"

"Since it was the night shift, there were only seven confirmed dead." The mahogany haired man reported, running a hand through said hair. It was evident that being in the estate made him uncomfortable. "Two security guards as well as several workers doing overtime—." He paused, wincing. "But those are only the bodies we've recovered thus far."

"Sebastian." Ciel snapped. Within the blink of an eye, the butler was at his side awaiting orders, bowing deeply. The earl passed the file in his hand to the servant beside him. "Track down the employee files of these people and send their families my personal condolences."

"Right away, young master." Sebastian nodded, collecting the files and quietly exiting the parlor. Aberline's gaze shifted from the fuming earl to the servant and back. Ciel resisted the urge to roll his visible eye at the officer's expression.

"I know it's cold to order a servant to do so." He mumbled, reaching across the table to take up his own teacup and saucer. "But I am more concerned with finding whoever decided to murder my employees. You were saying you had reason to believe it was arson?"

"Ah! Yes." Aberline nodded animatedly, making a great show of reaching into his coat and extracting a worn file, passing it to the earl as if it contained a dark secret. Ciel collected it plainly, slipping the contents from its center.

"What is this?" He mumbled, leaning his elbow on the edge of the armchair and propping up his cheek as he unfolded the bit of parchment within.

"It was sitting on top of a pile of ashes, completely unscathed by the flames. The fire department discovered it while they were removing the bodies." Aberline whispered. Ciel sat up straight, the color draining from his face as he regarded the message upon the parchment, scrolled in neat, unmistakable calligraphy:

_Ciel Phantomhive. You must destroy it immediately—before we take you with it._

Curt and precise. A fool could've told that this was a direct threat to Ciel and his butler's presence. Could this possibly be that someone had discovered Sebastian's true identity as a demon? Ciel shook his head to himself; that would be jumping to conclusions. "It" could be a number of things—an item or piece of information within his position that would betray the secret of another noble, or maybe even a prototype product in the works that would jeopardize a rival company? He quickly dismissed the second notion, figuring that it would be unlikely for a rival company to go as far as to burn down an entire confectionary factory.

"Do you have any idea what this could mean?" Aberline's earnest inquiry broke Ciel from his thoughts. The younger man composed himself, clearing his throat and straightening the lapels of his blazer.

"It could mean a number of things." Ciel said dismissively, setting down the note and taking up his tea once more. "I'll have to look into it at a later time."

"So… do you have any idea who could've done this?" prodded the officer. Ciel sighed and sat down his tea, peppermint still lingering on his palette as he spoke.

"No. Much like the meaning of this note, it could be a number of people. A business rival, an old 'family friend'." He paused, considering his words. "One of which I'll be having a discussion with in the near future. You took the bodies to the usual place?"

"Yes." Aberline replied, commencing with his uncomfortable shifting.

"Very good." Ciel nodded, setting down his tea beside the note and standing, extending a hand to Aberline across the coffee table. "Thank you for your visit, Mister Aberline. It's greatly appreciated."

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you so late…" He mumbled in reply, gathering up Ciel's hand in his own. "Things were busy—we were attempting to keep the arson under wraps from the press and general public all day, so I apologize for the delay—."

"No need." Ciel interrupted smoothly, holding out his palm. "I would've preferred to investigate personally once I heard this morning—." He glanced at the grandfather clock pressed against the wall, which read a quarter past midnight. "Yesterday morning. But I have been feeling under the weather as of late."

"Ah! I'm so sorry." Aberline apologized, attempting to surreptitiously wipe his hand on his coat and failing spectacularly. "Well, I hope you feel better in the near future, Earl Phantomhive. I assure you that the yard will do anything in its power to bring the perpetrator to justice."

Ciel nodded. "It is appreciated. I assume you can show yourself out? My only reliable servant is busy and I fear Maylene will run into a wall if she attempts to do so."

"Erm. Of course." Aberline nodded quickly, a drop of sweat rolling down his brow as he maneuvered out of the parlor. Ciel collected the note in clammy hands, holding the parchment close to him as he followed Aberline to the doorway and watched the man stumble nervously down the hall and into the entrance hall. Releasing a tremulous breath, Ciel ran his hand over his brow and up through his hair, slumping against the frame.

"You should be getting to bed, my lord." Sebastian's voice came through the darkness of the hallway. Ciel turned to see glowing eyes approaching through the darkness, watching as Sebastian seemed to materialize out of nowhere, carrying a set of envelopes with him. "However, these need to be signed before I seal them, master."

"I'll attend to it in the morning." Ciel pressed out through a yawn, rolling his neck this way and that. "If I don't get to sleep now, I'll never be able to wake up in the morning."

"You slept nearly 'till ten this morning, my lord." Sebastian commented as Ciel advanced into the darkness and up a narrow flight of side-stairs that lead to his chamber. "I'm truly beginning to fear for your health."

"Liar." Ciel accused, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder to catch the feigned expression of hurt that was surely forming on Sebastian's face. However, no forced comment was made by the demon and Ciel continued up the stairs, finally reaching his chambers.

"It will be cold tonight, my lord, so I have prepared your bed with an extra down comforter." Sebastian said as they passed through the small entrance room and into Ciel's bedroom. The earl stared at the massive, plush bed and suddenly felt a wave of stress leave his shoulders as Sebastian began to strip him.

"You have no idea how comfortable that bed looks to me." Ciel all but growled. Sebastian chuckled and paused with his fingers lingering over the crotch of his master's trousers.

"Oh, I can imagine." He grinned, leaving Ciel with the ghostly sensation of his touch as soon as it left him. Ciel usually would've reacted with a heavy amount of indignation and embarrassment, but that bed just looked _so damn good_ that he hardly gave two shakes of an arse to the demon's present flirtations. Sebastian crossed the room into Ciel's closet, folding the clothing and placing it in the laundry basket before gathering up his lord's nightshirt.

"So would my lord like to—?" Sebastian froze, spotting the nearly-naked form of Ciel crawling under the covers. "May I ask what in the world you're doing?"

"Sleeping." Ciel answered simply, pulling the comforters over his head. Sebastian sighed, looking ready to embed his own head in the wall.

"My lord, your nightshirt." Sebastian insisted, stepping over to the bed and peeling back the covers. Ciel glared at him with a single, weary eye as the demon removed the patch and slid the shirt over his slender frame. Before he was even able to button the shirt halfway, Ciel had retreated under the covers like a burrowing animal, making sleepy noises.

"You've been acting quite bizarre as of late." He said softly, placing the eye patch on Ciel's nightstand. He paused, an expression that could have possibly been gentle washing over his usually cold claret eyes. "Though that's to be expected, hnn?" He added, too soft for the buried earl to hear.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** dfjdfkjlfaaakldsnkefjiorejq HEY GUYS. Didn't expect to update so quickly! I've had a lot of extra time to write during school due to the underclassmen testing while us seniors sit around and do nothing for two hours a day, so much of this was composed in my little notebook. This chapter was originally supposed to have a LOT more in it, rather than just talking and subtle plot advancements, but once it got to the length that it currently is and I found a natural breaking point, I HAD to end it. I'm really, really sorry if this is just phenomenally boring in comparison to the last chapter, but I needed a boring talking chapter in here to set the pace for the second part of the story, as well as properly introduce our villains Leona and Cosette. I tried to put in some fanservice and make this chapter a bit more lighthearted than the last in order to give readers a break, but I promise that the next chapter will make up for it. I'm going to be giving you some Undertaker, so you must love me.

In any case, thank you so much for the positive reviews! I really wanted to start this story off much different from my usual fluff-fest- I can't say much more than that, because I fear that I'll end up giving too much away! In any case, much love you guys! I'll see you soon.


	3. Nelumbo

"**Broken Pieces"**

**Chapter Two**

**Nelumbo**

_"I invite you to a world where there is no such thing as time  
And every creature lends themself to change your state of mind  
And the girl that chased the rabbit drank the wine and took the pill  
Has locked herself in limbo to see how it truly feels  
To stand outside your virtue  
No one can ever hurt you  
Or so they say."_

Shinedown (Her Name is Alice)

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"Pardon me?" Ciel glanced up from his tea. Undertaker stared back at the boy clothed in powder blue, tilting his head to one side with a wide grin. All around them, oversized flowers flourished, blushing vivid shades of cerulean and magenta.

"Why_ is_ a raven like a writing desk?" Finny inquired sleepily from where he was half-asleep in a plate of scones. Ciel stared pointedly at the gardener, who appeared as small as a little dormouse. How queer…

"Because there is an R in eithe_r_ and an H in neit_h_er, right?" Bard grinned. Ciel jumped, he hadn't even noticed the chef sitting opposite Finny, to the earl's left—it was as if a spotlight had fallen upon him, illuminating him into Ciel's world.

"Oh no, no, no." Undertaker chuckled, reaching for a small pot of tea before him and holding it up to his nose. He peered around it slowly, golden-green eyes leering at Ciel from behind a sheet of grey fringe. "Per'aps our Alice would know, hnn?"

Ciel froze, now pinned under the stares of the three mad party guests. He shifted in the oddly-colored armchair that he was seated in; he stared deep into his teacup, where several rose petals had floated to the surface. "Because," He began softly. The trio leaned forward, Undertaker propping his chin on his folded hands, expression still amused. "Poe wrote on both."

The three promptly burst into peals of laughter, Finny going as far as to fall backwards onto one of his scones and roll about in the frosting. Bard banged on the table loudly, causing the China to jump several inches. Ciel stared.

"I'm sorry to leave so quickly, but I still have to find my rabbit, you see." He said, pushing up from his seat. There was a low chuckle and Ciel's eyes raised. The garden, the mismatched chairs and tables, the tea and the party guests were all gone. The only two who remained in the darkness were himself and Undertaker, spotlights beating down upon them through the inky blackness.

"Clever, young Earl." Giggled the mortician, swaying back and forth ever so slightly. "Very clever, but not quite."

Undertaker disappeared into the darkness, the spotlight closing in around Ciel as he began to disappear, his body going hollow and cold where the light was taken away. He gasped, drowning in nothing, and began to reach desperately for the golden glow, his fingers wrapping around the very last strands as his ears were met with the sound of beating wings.

* * *

Gasping, Ciel bolted upright in bed. His body was covered in a cold sweat, shivers wracking his slender frame. Hair stuck to the nape of his neck and his nightshirt clung to his chest. The sound of wings still echoed loudly in his ears, tickling and repeating as if he had heard it both within and outside of his dream.

Throwing back the massive stack of blankets and comforters, Ciel began to remove the nightshirt, running his hands up the nape of his neck and into his hair in an attempt to remove the sweat. He must've been thrashing violently in his sleep in order to work up such perspiration—it hadn't helped that Sebastian had added the extra comforter earlier in the evening.

"'Why is a raven like a writing desk'?" Ciel repeated softly to himself, spreading his limbs out and falling back onto his sheets. It seemed like such an odd thing to dream of, especially considering the events of the day before. With his innate fear of fires, Ciel had been certain that his dreams would be less than pleasant and more reminiscent of the heat closing in on him, soot filling his mouth—

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, the earl rolled onto his side, the riddle and the heavy flaps of wings beating in his mind again and again, as if Undertaker and the raven itself were within his room.

There was a gentle rustle of feathers, and Ciel's eyes snapped to the dark corner of his bed chambers, mind reeling as his eyes adjusted to the darkness: '_Did a bird get in? Was that the curtain? There's something in this room. THERE'S SOMETHING IN THIS ROOM_.'

Finally, the shadows within the corners subsided, revealing themselves to be just that: shadows. Ciel laughed softly to himself, resting his palm on his chest, where his squeezing, palpitating heart was beginning to ease back into a comfortable pace. It was merely an echo of his dream; of course he was alone, there was no way that his servants or Sebastian would allow anyone to enter the Phantomhive manor.

As Ciel shifted to climb back under his covers, the talons wrapped around the back of his neck.

A jolt of electric horror shot throughout his body as he felt the sharp, hard claws constrict, squeezing senselessly as there was a low caw behind him. Feebly, his hands wrapped around the massive claws as Ciel's eyes rolled into his head, scratching uselessly. His mind had barely even begun to register the attack from behind when the door was thrown open with a splintering _bang_ and the pressure around his throat subsided.

The assassin moved too quickly for Ciel's human eyes to catch, moving in a black blur alongside the butler. By the time he has registered the fact that they were out of the room, there was an awful crash of the grandfather clock in the front room tipping over and shattering to pieces. A scuffle. Snapping wood. Ciel sat on his bed, perfectly still. His heart was still threatening to beat out of his chest, body fueled and buzzing with liquid adrenaline; but his mind had buzzed to an awful blank.

He was only reawakened by the blood-curdling cry of the creature. It met his ears within moments of Sebastian's counter attack, and ended not even two seconds later: but the scream of the assassin seemed to stretch on forever. It was as if he were hearing the mangled cries from all the cultists as Sebastian had slaughtered them that night seven years ago, curled around the sound of a whistling scream of a teapot and a dying bird. High and low all in one breath and over before it began, leaving Ciel trembling and hollow upon his bed.

When candlelight flooded the room minutes later, a single black feather was floating down onto the earl's pillow. His cerulean eyes fell upon Sebastian, as he shed off his blazer, looking oddly disheveled for one usually so neat and orderly. There was a clear streak of red upon his upper cheek, a thick rivulet of blood traveling down to his chin.

"I apologize for my appearance, my lord. I would've cleaned myself off if I weren't so concerned for your well-being." In two steps, he was across the room, caressing Ciel's face and turning it this way and that urgently.

"Did it harm you, young mas—." Sebastian was silenced as the back of Ciel's hand collided with his cheek harshly, the back of his ring leaving a neat gash below the one that the thing's claw had created.

"_Don't touch me so easily_!" Ciel barked, pulling away from Sebastian violently. His chest was heaving, heart threatening to burst out of his ribs at any moment as it shuttered and fluttered with fear. He drew his hand to his chest, rocking back and forth silently as he struggled to hold in the whimpers forming in the back of his throat. Sebastian lightly touched the newly-created mark, making a soft noise of surprise.

"My deepest apologies, young master." He said quietly, instantly dropping to one knee in submission. "It was out of line for me."

Ciel did not reply as he fought himself out of the near-catatonic state, forcing himself to cease the childish swaying. Composing himself to the best of his ability, Ciel fisted his hands in the fabric of his bedclothes, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths. "Did you kill it?"

Sebastian was silent for a moment, save for the sound of him licking his lips. Ciel's eyes snapped open and he pinned the demon with a glare. "Well?"

"No, my lord." He admitted, shaking his head slowly. "I only have an idea as to what it was, and it escaped before I was able to properly dispose of it. Its kind is known as masters of speed and stealth—."

"I want it dead _now_." Ciel ordered through gritted teeth. Sebastian winced, shaking his head.

"My deepest apologies." He repeated, pushing himself off of the ground. "At this point in time, that is something that is impossible."

"THEN FIX IT!" Shouted the still-trembling teenager, now shaking uncontrollably. "Do whatever you can! Your orders are now to keep me safe from that _thing_, no matter _what_ the cost—_is that understood_?"

"Yes my lord." Sebastian folded one arm in front of him, bowing deeply. "Let me begin the preparations. You should try to get some rest while I do so."

Ciel gave a loud, incredulous laugh as he wrapped his arms around himself, as if shielding his body from a second attack although he knew that such a thing would never transpire in Sebastian's presence. Though now all he wanted was to be held by the demon and reassured of his safely—

The earl all but struck himself, shaking his head violently. This was no time for such thoughts—he had nearly been killed by some sort of strange creature that appeared to vex even _Sebastian_. This was no time to be seeking comfort in the arms of his servant.

"We'll be relocating to the London estate, my lord." Sebastian explained, removing a massive trunk from the depths of Ciel's closet. "With this particular type of assassin, it's best to be amongst many people in order to throw off its sense of smell—." There was a terrible retching noise as Ciel leaned off of the side of his bed and vomited all over the carpet. Sebastian blinked, unphased. "Lovely." He commented before resuming his packing. "I'll be sure to call Master Soma and his servant to alert them of our presence right after I clean up. Is your neck injured?"

Ciel reached back, still shaking in fear and the after-effects of his sickness. It was clear that parts of the area where the bird had clamped its talons around him were tender and raw, but there were no punctures or gashes like the one that it had created on Sebastian's cheek. "No, just raw."

"MASTER!" Ciel jumped as the door was thrown open, and Bard burst into his bed chamber, sporting a massive flamethrower. Oh his heels were Finny—wielding a massive set of twin frying pans—and Maylene, glasses pushed out of her eyes and a long pistol with the hammer cocked and ready to fire. Tanaka loomed in the doorway of the front room, sipping tea and chuckling lightly. All of them were still in their pajamas and looked, for all the world, like they had just escaped from a mental asylum.

"Where are they?! We heard something and got ready to fight as soon as possible." Bard growled, aiming his flamethrower at the shadows menacingly.

"Sebastian took care of the problem." Ciel said curtly, still shaken by the attack and now the sudden appearance of his four servants. "You can return to bed. We will be leaving for the London estate as soon as possible; so I'm leaving Mister Tanaka in charge." The earl gestured towards the old Japanese man, who bowed and nodded cheerfully.

"As I expected, young Mister Sebastian is as effective as ever." Tanaka smiled as he turned to Bard, who was looking quite sheepish. "See? I told you there was no need to worry. He has everything under control. Now, if you'll excuse me." Tanaka took a sip of tea and began to plod off towards his room. "I'm quite tired."

The three others stared imploringly at Ciel, whom was still attempting to quell his trembles. "You're dismissed." He said quietly. "Go back to bed."

"Yes, master." The three replied, each bowing in turn before they dispersed. Ciel turned into himself, avoiding staring at the puddle of sick that had gathered at the side of his bed. His entire body ached, his neck burned, his stomach was still tying itself into knots and his head was beginning to pound. There were too many things happening in his body and around him, and not enough in his mind.

"I'm going to be ill again." Ciel whispered into his hand, curling unto himself once more. Pitifully, he realized that tears were beginning to creep out and gather in the corners of his eyes; however, he felt no need to contain them this time around. Everything hurt so badly that he did not even search for the strength to hide them as he allowed himself to cry freely, regardless of the demon's presence.

"I hate this. _I hate this_." He hissed again and again, burying his face in his knees. "First illness and now this attack—I haven't a clue what is happening to my body or my mind, Sebastian, and things seem to be slipping from my control…"

"It's quite uncharacteristic of you to confide in me like this, young master." Sebastian said quietly from the other side of the bed. "May I?"

Face still buried and having no clue what the demon was asking of him, Ciel nodded furiously. Sebastian cleared his throat softly, and the mattress creaked as the demon climbed on from the other end, moving over the bed slowly and brushing bare fingers against the similarly naked flesh on the back of Ciel's neck. The teenager flinched, still shaking more than he would've preferred, and Sebastian made a very soft noise that Ciel could've mistaken for a whimper. Suddenly, something damp moved against the raw area on his neck and Ciel gasped gently.

Lightly steadying himself on Ciel's shoulders, Sebastian drew his tongue across the stinging area in short laps. Where the warm sensation touched his skin, the stinging seemed to evanesce away in the trails that were left in his wake. Nuzzling gently into the mark that he had left before, Sebastian licked up the path from the crook of Ciel's neck to his ear. "Better?" He whispered softly, causing yet another shiver to shoot throughout Ciel's veins. But this one was far from fearful.

"Y-yes." He stuttered as the demon brought his hand around is face, brushing the tears from his cheeks.

"There now." The demon said, gathering up Ciel's chin and holding it gently. "I'll continue the preparations, and you should attempt to rest for the time being."

"O-okay." Ciel nodded, though he felt as if Sebastian's hand was controlling his actions, however subtlety. The demon laughed once, softly, and crawled backwards off of the bed, leaving Ciel sitting in the dark once more.

At the base of his bed, something dark and glossy caught Ciel's eye. Slowly, he crawled to the foot of the mattress, plucking the object from his carpet. A jet-black feather.

* * *

"Ciel! My little brother! My dearest, most treasured friend!"

Scowling, Ciel sunk back into the carriage, actually pressing back forcefully into Sebastian's chest as the Bengal prince came bounding down the front steps of the Phantomhive London estate, his red-violet hair bouncing as he frolicked towards the street.

"My lord?" Sebastian inquired lowly.

"I want to go back." Ciel muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "I don't care if I get eaten by that awful bird. It would be much preferable than being subjected to this."

Sighing in exasperation, Sebastian nudged Ciel out of the carriage as the count put on his best fake grin (which made it look as if he were smiling through a great deal of pain) and began to march up the pathway towards the prince. At nearly twenty-one, Soma still towered over Ciel, but had yet to lose his boyish looks or similar personality. As he pranced up to the gate and proceeded to bounce up and down like a caffeinated puppy, Agni exited the house, his usual benevolent smile already melting onto his face.

"Sebastian, Ciel!" He said warmly, clapping his hands together. "We were both surprised to have heard from you two after all this time—you rarely visit the estate."

"I've been quite busy as of late." Ciel murmured, flinching when Soma finally managed to unhinge the latch on the gate and dive towards him. The prince embraced him moments later, burying the smaller man into his chest.

"Ah, Ciel! I've been missing you! You _must_ see the plans for the restaurant Agni and I are planning to open!" He rocked back and forth, nearly smothering Ciel in his hearty embrace as the smaller of the two flailed desperately. "We have the entire menu planned out—." Soma was promptly cut off as Sebastian inserted an arm between the prince and Ciel, firmly removing the earl from his grasp and pulling Ciel to his side possessively. Soma blinked with wide owlish eyes, cocking his head to one side as he registered the lack of grumpy earl in his arms.

"I apologize, but I was worried for the young master's health." Sebastian said stiffly, a hand still clapped protectively over Ciel's shoulder. "You see, he's been under a great deal of physical stress as of late and I fear you may agitate his condition."

Soma stared, half-registering the butler's words as he struggled to hide from Sebastian behind Agni.

"He means that Master Ciel may become ill if you handle him too roughly." The Indian butler translated with a smile, turning his gaze onto the earl and his own servant and bowing. "If you'd come inside, I have breakfast waiting for you."

"Agni made chai tea with milk and a Scottish breakfast food called 'oat-_meal_'!" Soma announced proudly, pronouncing the final word with awkward emphasis. "It's a lot like the porridge we have back home, but flavored with brown sugar in place of cumin. I think you'll like it."

"Thank you." Ciel forced out as Sebastian steered him towards the entrance of the estate. Though the food usually would've sounded appetizing, Ciel's stomach revolted the idea of consuming anything so early in the morning. He sighed, glancing out of the corner of his eye at his butler, who was staring straight forward with an impassive look on his face. It was strange, Sebastian had rarely ever intervened in a situation where Ciel ended up uncomfortably smothered by Soma or any others who were prone to playfully molesting him on occasion. Ciel always assumed it was because Sebastian found great humor in seeing his master uncomfortable.

What was more was the fact that even after removing Soma from Ciel's person, Sebastian was still keeping his hand tightly secured on Ciel's shoulder, as if he were afraid to let go of the earl. Come to think of it, Sebastian had been taking care to touch Ciel a great deal more than he usually would as of late. Rubbing his shoulders and back, the nervous caress of his face as he checked for wounds, the way he had rasped his tongue against the back of his neck and brushed against the sensitive mark—

Ciel turned red as they stepped into the entrance hall, finding that—both surprisingly and thankfully—Agni and Soma had managed to keep it in order. However, over the years that they had tended to the estate in Ciel's absence, a number of Indian artifacts ranging from small, golden statues of Shiva and Kali to vividly-colored tapestries depicting scenes from Hindu scriptures had appeared as well. The lightly-perfumed smell Ciel recalled the place originally having had been slowly replaced by a deeper scent of incense and spice.

As they sat down for breakfast, Ciel feigned interest in Soma's ravings about the restaurant, poked about the contents of his bowl, and watched Sebastian struggle to be treated as a guest and not a servant while Agni insisted on doing every last thing.

"Ah, yes!" Soma snapped, suddenly sitting up in his seat. "Agni tells me that the reason you came here was not only for your health, but for a mysterious threat." He leaned forward, a dark expression washing over his face. "Rest assured that your best friend will not allow any harm to come to you while you are here, Ciel!"

"Thank you." Nodded the fair-skinned youth. He had been wondering if Sebastian had neglected to tell Soma and Agni of the supernatural assassin from early that morning.

"You ought to rest while you're here, Ciel." Soma went on to say, picking up an egg spoon and using it to dig up a piece of oatmeal to shove into his mouth. Out of the corner of Ciel's eye, Sebastian twitched. "You're always running around so much that you barely have any time to come and visit your best friend—no wonder you've fallen so ill!"

"I suppose." Ciel mumbled, staring at the beige sludge that looked so horribly out of place in the fine china bowl he was eating from. Soma hummed, vaguely perturbed at Ciel's silence before pushing out of his seat and clapping.

"It's settled then!" He shouted enthusiastically. "When a day comes that Ciel Phantomhive is nearly silent and has yet to make a single facetious comment, it is the day that his best friend will carry him to bed!"

Those were the words that most certainly woke Ciel up as he all but leapt out of his seat, watching Sebastian tense in annoyance. "That's perfectly fine, Soma. In fact, I'm feeling much better already. Sebastian?" He said in one breath.

"Yes, m'lord?" The butler inquired, leaving his hardly-touched breakfast as he stood alongside Ciel.

"I believe we have someone to visit. Let us go before it gets too late." Ciel insisted, turning on his heel and heading for the door.

"But it isn't even ten in the morning!" Soma shouted after him earnestly. Agni frowned, gathering up Ciel's plate still laden with food.

"And you've hardly touched your breakfast. Wouldn't you like to sit or awhile?" The second butler inquired as Sebastian wrapped Ciel in his usual black cape, pulling on his own overcoat.

"I apologize for my rudeness, but I simply must get this meeting out of the way." Insisted the youngest of the four as his butler lightly placed his cane in his grip. "I wouldn't be able to eat a bite without getting business attended to." He turned to Sebastian as they hurried out of the dining room. "I believe we should be able to walk. It isn't far from here."

"But Ciel!" Soma whined, bursting from the dining room and into the entrance hall. "You're still ill! We're both very concerned about you!"

"I'll be fine by the time I return, I'm just very anxious about this meeting." The earl quickly insisted as Sebastian unhinged the locks upon the front door. "We'll return in several hours time. Thank you for breakfast."

"You're—!" Soma was cut off as Sebastian closed the door behind them; both master and servant deflating with a sigh of relief as they started down the front walk.

"That was an impressive save, my lord." Sebastian commented as they made their way towards the sidewalk. Ciel gave a small noise of agreement, glancing over his shoulder to see Soma pressing his nose against the window and waving pitifully at the two like a child that had been left behind.

Scoffing and shaking his head, Ciel paused at the gate and allowed Sebastian to open it for him, nodding slightly in appreciation as he passed through. As the two traveled, the wind whipped the edges of Ciel's cape, carrying along with it a sharp, cold bite that promised oncoming rain.

"We should've brought an umbrella." Ciel frowned, pausing in the midst of the cobblestone path and staring up at the darkening sky. "It's bound to rain soon—."

There was a soft click as Sebastian unfolded a black Funtom umbrella from the lapel of his coat and held it over Ciel.

"One hell of a butler?" The earl smirked as they made their way down the street.

"One hell of a butler." Sebastian agreed, a smirk curling onto his lips as well.

The two made their way down the path and turned, continuing for a mile or so before the residential area composed of fine town estates fanned out into several narrow streets. Taking a sharp turn, Ciel and Sebastian traveled down a thin avenue containing an array of crooked little shops, their front windows darkened by heavy velvet curtains. The smell of fresh and burning herbs told of witches' brews and dark magics transpiring beyond thick doors. Gypsies smiled crooked teeth at Sebastian and Ciel, bowing as they passed them on the street.

Finally, they arrived at their destination: a shop displaying a collection of urns and caskets through the open front windows, reading in plain, elegant font above the doorway: _Undertaker_. Ciel paused in front of the shop, sighing and glancing towards his butler.

"Do you have a joke prepared?" He asked with a heavy sigh.

"As always." Sebastian nodded, folding the dry umbrella and slipping it back into his coat; he glanced at Ciel, smiling. "Shall we?"

Ciel nodded as Sebastian pushed open the door, triggering a morbidly cheerful bell above it. The front room of Undertaker's establishment was abandoned, as usual, filled with nothing but coffins both ornate and simple and the stink of embalming fluid. Ciel nearly heaved, turning his face into the hollow of Sebastian's shoulder, eliciting a small, surprised noise from the demon.

"A cock linnet, if you'd please!" Undertaker called from the back room, his accented voice as heavy and mysterious as ever. Ciel rolled his eyes into the demon's coat.

"We don't have all day, you cockney bastard." Swore the earl, unearthing his face and attempting to make himself look as composed as possible whilst he was about to vomit.

"Hmmm, you're more impatient than usual, young earl." Said the grey-haired man as he stepped out of the back room, using a worn cloth to wipe his hands. "Did somethin—."

The spindly, tall man paused, cocked his head to the side as he assessed the sight before him. There was a brief pause as Ciel raised his head in confusion before a wide grin split the undertaker's face and he burst into a round of laughter more violent than Ciel had ever seen or heard from him, flopping down onto his counter as the manic giggles racked his frame. Ciel and Sebastian exchanged odd glances before the demon cleared his throat loudly and the pale misanthrope's laugher died into tiny convulsions.

"Terribly sorry," He grinned, presumably brushing tears of laughter from the corners of his fringe-concealed eyes. "It's just… this is possibly the funniest thing I 'ave ever seen in all my years."

Ciel bristled, his expression darkening before he gave a slight start, for beside him, Sebastian had begun to snarl under his breath, his eyes narrowed into slits. "Undertaker…" He growled in warning. The other man tutted, holding his hands up in self-defense and fluttering his long fingernails.

"It was simply amusing; you know tha' I mean no harm. Now," He grinned, extracting a small vase of bone-shaped cookies from beneath his counter. "'Oo wants biscuits?"

"What's so amusing?" Ciel inquired, his grip tightening around his cane and his lips folded into a scowl. Undertaker shrugged, waving the notion away like a pesky gnat as he retracted a sweet from the vase and leaned his elbows on the counter, biting a piece off.

"Nothing that concerns you." He lied airily as Sebastian snorted. "Come now, don't be that way! 'Ave a biscuit and make yourself at home." Undertaker gestured towards the caskets displayed in the front of the shop. Sighing, Ciel lowered himself to the nearest coffin as Sebastian sat down beside him, garnet eyes fixed imploringly on Undertaker.

"So," Said the embalmer conversationally as he twirled the sweet in his grasp. "I s'ppose you came here looking for information? The remains uncovered from the accident are in the back waitin' to go in the oven."

Ciel winced, shaking himself of the mental images that crossed his mind: his father's charred flesh, the god-awful smell and taste, the strangely-colored ashes within his mother's urn after removing the tiny top to empty them into the grave. Of all things, why did it have to be in flames?

"You look like you could use a spot o' tea." Undertaker interrupted his thought process through a mouthful of shortbread. "I recently just bought some delicious black tea with rosehips…" He trailed off, extracting a beaker and a small tin of tea from his workspace. Ciel cringed, imagining what lovely fluids could've occupied the beaker only moments before.

"No thank you." He declined, holding up a hand towards the mortician. "But I did wish to inquire about the cause of death for my employees."

Undertaker grinned toothily, sliding the tea back into its assigned spot. "'Ow they were murdered, you mean? Well, I'll tell you this," He paused, resting his chin upon laced fingers. His strangely-colored eyes peeked out from behind a sheet of grey hair. "If it weren't for that note, I would've suspected no foul play. There were no accelerants for the flames on their bodies, and no wounds pre or post-mortem—though it was clear to see that they were in quite a bit o' agony." His lips jerked into a line, caught between a crazed grin and a frown. "As for the perpetrators, it could be a number o' people." He glanced to Sebastian, who gave him a subtle nod. Ciel seemed to sense a moment of silent understanding between the two mysterious creatures.

"The young master was attacked last evening." Sebastian explained, reaching out to lightly brush over the nape of his master's neck. "And not by any average assassin."

"Oh?" Undertaker hummed, his head flopping to one side like a curious animal.

"I'd like to know if you were familiar with any bird-like supernatural beings." Sebastian proposed, pushing himself off of the coffin. He extracted a small, dark article from within his cloak. Ciel squinted, forcing his eyes to adjust in the dim light as he registered the item that was being presented to Undertaker. The cryptic man made a vaguely surprised noise as he took the black feather Ciel had found into his hand, twirling it in his grasp.

"'Arpy." He said plainly, stashing the feather in the front of his robes. "Yes, no doubt about it."

"Harpy?" Ciel echoed incredulously, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "You mean those woman-headed birds from Greek mythology?"

"Mythology can be misleading." Undertaker shrugged, crossing the parlor to a massive bookshelf. His fingers fluttered over the massive leather spines as he continued, "Your butler 'ere has neither horns nor hooves as many Christies would describe a demon. N'fact, the image of demons and Satan was stolen from Greece's god of nature, Pan." He finally pulled a massive, ancient tome from his collection, setting it down on a coffin and eliciting a small cloud of dust. "Though I do believe the term 'Harpy' is a tad outdated; 's nearly defunct by now. Yes, I do believe the term nowadays is Snatcher or Soul-Snatcher."

"What do you know about them?" Sebastian prompted, standing up from the coffin and hovering over Undertaker pointedly as he flipped through the pages. Ciel craned his neck, struggling to see the diagram that the book displayed.

"Enough." Undertaker shrugged. "Let's see 'ere; as we all know, a snatcher is made from a mother demon and a father reaper," He rattled off, "Usually they're born quite uncontrollable, with an amount of energy comparable to a cambion—."

"Pardon?" Ciel interrupted.

"A cambion." Undertaker repeated, glancing up to Ciel with a wide grin. "The product of a human and an incubus or succubus."

"A sex demon?" The earl smirked, an eyebrow quirking as he recalled the stories of the succubus Lilith from the Bible. "One of those things adulteresses blame pregnancies on?"

The undertaker burst into another round of laughter, shaking his head. "Once again, another misconception brought upon by the Christies and the Cathies. No," He giggled and then sighed, rather pleasantly. "While they may be 'ighly sexual and beautiful things, incubi and succubi have something much worse going for 'em. And that's raw power." Chuckling, Undertaker elaborated no further and reached deep into his pockets extracting several tiny, slender bones; a moldy meat pie; a scalpel; and finally a pair of silver-rimmed reading spectacles. Sliding them onto his nose and holding the great grey sheets of hair away from his face, Undertaker hovered over the book and began to read. "'_—the form of the animal familiar of the mother_'… no, no… '_Reaper mothers usually sire_—' now that's not it." He paused, scratching his head before grinning in relief. "Ah! Here we are: '_The existence of _Animam Aufero_, more commonly known as a harpies, snatchers, or soul-snaters can be traced as far back as ancient Egypt, in which the reaper Anubis_—.'"

"Anubis was a God of death and mummification." Ciel interrupted with a scowl. "How can we be sure you're not feeding up bullocks?"

"You can come over 'ere and read it yourself, if you're uncertain." Undertaker shrugged, tapping on the page with a claw-like fingernail. "But ask yourself this, young earl: 'ave I ever lied to you before?"

"You've concealed the truth, which is just as good as lying." Ciel replied, using his cane to hoist himself from the casket, squeezing himself between Sebastian and Undertaker to stare at the page. Upon it was depicted a massive, gnarled-looking cow as well as a naked girl with long, dark hair and ram's horns. Undertaker cleared his throat and continued.

"'—_in which the reaper Anubis sired an illegitimate child with the cow demoness Hathor, whom was incorrectly celebrated as a reaper by many humans. The child born from their union was Dendara: a sickly, twisted creature with a massive gash in its chest, through which a beating heart could be clearly seen. The creature neither acted nor spoke like either a god or a demon, communicating in shrieks that have been said to wake the dead and going on violent rampages throughout small Egyptian villages._"

Ciel's eyes landed on the emaciated form of the calf and felt a dark shutter run through his body.

"'_Disgusted, Anubis cut the very beating heart from the creature's chest; only to find that it did not die. The thing tore into the nearest village and extracted a human's soul, plunging it into its very chest. After several attempts to slay his curséd offspring, Anubis came to realize that it was using the human soul as an energy source to heal its wounds. It was only when Anubis pinned Dendara with his sword, wrenched the soul from the creature and bled it to death that he was able to destroy it once and for all. Interestingly enough, the method for slaying a snatcher remains true to the tale of Anubis and his child Dendara; the heart must be extracted from the snatcher's chest and it must be slain whilst not containing a heart or a stolen soul to leech energy from_.'" Undertaker slammed the book closed, causing Ciel to start. "A lovely story." He beamed. "One of my favorites as a child."

"You were a child once?" Ciel asked flatly. Undertaker laughed and replaced the heavy volume in its original resting place.

"Strangely enough, yes." He sighed nostalgically, sweeping around to his counter and picking up another cookie. "You certain you don't want any biscuits?"

"Quite." Ciel scowled. "Well, I believe we got what we came here for. Sebastian?"

"Yes, my lord." The demon nodded, glancing back at Undertaker warily as they made their way towards the door.

"Oh, Earl! Do catch."

Ciel spun on his heel, gasping as the embalmer lobbed something across the shop at him. Sebastian snatched it out of the air, placing it in Ciel's outstretched hand. He studied the parcel, only to find that it was a decently-sized letter opener, sheathed in worn leather. The teenager glanced back at Undertaker, who merely smiled in his usually ambiguous manner and tilted his head this way and that.

"You'll know what to do with it." He said in a sing-song voice, waving the two off. Ciel huffed and exited the shop, shaking his head as he made his way back up the narrow street.

"He was considerably more cryptic than usual today." Remarked the earl, glancing at Sebastian warily. The butler's eyes seemed uncharacteristically far off, his expression as impeccably unreadable as always. "And you are being strangely quiet."

"It's nothing that should concern you, my lord." Sebastian cleared his throat, reaching back into his coat to remove the umbrella. "I was merely intrigued by something that our dear friend mentioned. Now, I do believe it will begin to rain in a moment."

As if on cue, Ciel felt a soft, cold sensation upon his cheek where a tiny droplet of rain had hit him. Sebastian opened the dark umbrella, wrapping an arm around Ciel and pulling him to his side as to shelter the both of them. "My apologies, my lord." He said softly. "But I do believe that this is the most effective method to keeping you dry. I do not mean in infringe upon your personal space."

"It's fine." Ciel mumbled, not even bothering to fight down the blush as they made their way past the small, shady establishments. "But I've noticed something as of late."

"Oh?" Sebastian inquired, pausing and turning to his lord. Ciel stared up at him, mouth pulled into a taught line.

"You've been touching me as much as possible these past several days." He stared point-blank. "It's been very peculiar, to say the least. Not to mention your new tendency to get quite… _possessive_ whenever somebody else attempts to lay a hand on my person."

"I am merely watching out for my lord's displeasure of contact." Sebastian replied gently, a small grin curling onto his lips as he slid his hand up Ciel's neck to lightly caress his chin. "I apologize for assuming that you would allow me to touch you in an intimate matter." He said, voice growing husky as he dipped his face closer. Ciel felt the Sebastian's breath upon his lips and was suddenly made very dizzy by the demon's proximity. "Though that would be far from an unfamiliar sensation, hnn?"

Ciel stared into those darkening claret eyes, absolutely captivated. His lips were tingling, and his whole body had become charged with desire to close the distance between them. However, nature had other plans as the sky released a violent crash and the rain began to pour down in heavy squalls with sudden intensity, jolting Ciel from his dreamlike state of mind. As easily as he had slipped into the role of seducer, Sebastian resumed his identity as a butler and slipped his arm around Ciel's shoulders once more, shielding him from the rain.

"We should return to the estate as soon as possible, my lord." Sebastian said. "I wouldn't want to risk you catching a cold while you're in this condition."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

Hey everyone, sorry for the break in-between chapters. My BETA CheshireCity has been extremely busy with testing for the past two weeks, so it took awhile to get back from her. As for me, I have been bogged down with my theater class as well as tutoring as of late. Also, I am preparing for my high school graduation, so updates may be at strange intervals or a bit more spaced out than I would prefer them to be.

As for actual content of this chapter, YET AGAIN I found a natural breaking point where I was forced to end it. Ragh. Well, more for you, then, I suppose.

I know a lot of you will be all like "WUT" over my choice to give Undertaker a cockney accent—and I have very good reasoning behind it, don't worry. You've probably noticed that I tend to give Ciel a bit more of a formal tone, as well as make his language more… British-y. Because, well, they're in Victorian Britain and I really don't see any reason why I shouldn't give the characters accents or verbal ticks corresponding to that time and location. In both the manga and anime, we've seen that Undertaker lives (or at least works) in the heart of London—and in the anime he's an ancient and all-powerful grim reaper, so he's been around for a _damn _long while. Keeping that in mind, I'd think he'd start to develop a bit of a rough accent depending on his surroundings. I tried to mix that in with keeping him as in-character as possible, and I'm fairly certain I did well. At least in my crazy, crazy little mind. Seeing as we don't have an English translation of the anime, we would have no idea what Undertaker would sound like in English anyway (though my bet is that all the characters are going to have American accents and Undertaker is going to be played by Chuck Huber).

But, you know, also 'cause I think it's just awesome.

Anywho: chapter four is already done, but still needs to be BETA'd—currently it is my favorite chapter so far, so I hope you guys enjoy it when it's published! Much love!


	4. Bellis Perennis

"**Broken Pieces"**

**Chapter Four**

**Bellis Perennis **

**WARNING: **Disturbing depiction of rape of a minor. Please read at your own risk.

"_I live here on my knees as I try to make you see _

_That you're everything I think I need here on the ground.  
But you're neither friend nor foe _

_Though I can't seem to let you go.  
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down  
You're onto me, onto me, and all over...  
Something always brings me back to you.  
It never takes too long_."

Sara Bareilles (Gravity)

The next several weeks passed by with little event. As October advanced towards November, rain became heavily prevalent, two or three days not passing without a lengthy shower or storm. Ciel found himself understandably claustrophobic, aching for the contact of someone who was not one of the three he now resided alongside or the occasional business partner he met with. For the first few days of Ciel's stay at the London estate, Soma made it a habit to follow the earl around like a puppy, begging him to play or engaging him in conversations about the heavily illustrated sex manual he'd somehow acquired.

"This position's the best!" Soma would cry cheerfully, plodding behind Ciel as the earl made his way to the bathroom and waving about the pages depicting a couple twisted around each other in a frighteningly impossible way. "Come on, Ciel! You have to at least think about this kind of thing _sometimes_. You're almost seventeen, right? I remember when I was your age—."

And Ciel would promptly slam the bathroom door in his face, while Soma would make a show of whining and pawing at the door of the lavatory. "Oh, come on! I never get to talk about this kind of stuff with Agni; he wouldn't understand! Why do you keep ignoring me, Ciel?"

Snarling under his breath, Ciel ripped open the door of the loo and glared down at the pouting prince curled up on the floor. "_Because_," He began in a harsh tone. "I'm trying to _have a piss_. Now if you'll excuse me."

The door would close and Soma would whine and proceed to follow Ciel around the estate, pestering him during his sessions with his tutors until the prince became too bored with the talk of politics and Shakespearian literature and floated off to amuse himself with something else. However, Soma's obnoxious tendencies during the day were nothing compared to the terrible illness that had yet to subside as well as the terrors that kept Ciel tossing and turning throughout the night.

As of late, the nightmares had become particularly more twisted and vivid in such a way that it sometimes made it impossible for Ciel to know if he was waking or dreaming. Thankfully, he found that most escaped his mind after waking. They left only small traces of the events that had transpired within them lingering in his mind, albeit particularly chilling traces that fueled the dreams that he did happen to remember; the worst of which plagued him two weeks into his stay at the estate.

It was the cage.

Around him, the air was filled with the palpable fumes of burning herbs and incense, as well as the foul tang of blood. The hooded figures swept across the massive pit, their bodies trembling with drug-fueled excitement. He'd seen them burn the crystals to liquid and shoot them into their veins, sharing the blood elicited from the wounds with long pink tongues and trembling fingers. Afterwards, they'd wrench a naked and hallow-eyed child from a cage, throw them onto that horrific marble slab and—

The iron hinges of the cage creaked, children sentient enough to know what was happening scrambling back to press themselves against the bars. Meaty hands picked through trembling children with bleeding thighs, repeating something again and again in a low chant, like a mockery of a nursery rhyme:

"Virgin… virgin… where is a virgin?" He mumbled, his hand finally securing around Ciel's wrist. He shouted a question over his shoulder, which was replied with an affirmative. There was a quick tug and Ciel was pulled from the cage and thrown around violently. Above the ebbing and flowing voices, he could hear his mother's voice, clear and soft:

"_Go to sleep my little baby. You will never come to harm—._"

Someone laughed, tugging at his hair violently, snapping his neck back.

"_You are safe while mother holds you. Gently rest in peace and calm_."

He was thrown down onto the cold, hard slab face-down. It was still crusted and stained with the blood of the children before him. They wrenched back his arm, twisted it and pinned it behind his back. Someone else was holding his spare hand, sucking his fingers into their mouth.

"_Hush my dear one, sleep serenely. Close your eyes. Now go to sleep._"

The verses came in jagged intervals as he screamed into the marble, drooling and vomiting up hot, sticky bile. However, his cries of anguish only seemed to fuel his violators into a frenzy, their intense, hushed chants mixing with his mother's words. He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to block out the stabbing pain, but it was all around him and _in _him, plunging in and out with ruthless intent—sharp nails running down his back and limbs, hands jostling him around with bruising force, probing fingers and hot members prying open his mouth, choking him and causing him to cough and gag.

'_Let me die. Please let me die. Just let me die_.' Ciel thought as tears collected in the corners of his eyes, leaving burning trails down his cheeks. '_Please… I'll do anything to let it stop. Just stop it. Stop it. _Stop .'

Without warning, the cultists were gone; phantom limbs making ghost trails where they had groped and sullied him. Panting, Ciel pushed himself into a sitting position, feeling a hollow, burning ache where he had been penetrated. He glanced about the hall, only to discover that he was the only one there. Neither living nor dead graced the pit with their presence, all completely swept away—even the blood of the children that had dirtied the great slab. The only evidence of their existence was Ciel himself: naked, bleeding, shivering and very alone in the low light of the torches.

"This is what I wanted, wasn't it?" Ciel asked himself softly, wrapping his arms around his torso. "But…" He glanced up to the very spot where the demon had first appeared tall and horrifying with a strangely kind caress. "I want you here with me—."

As soon as Ciel uttered the words, they seemed to snag on his lips as his hand flew to his abdomen. Dark horror pooled within him as he realized that there was something squirming just below his hand. Trembling, he felt the sensation flutter through his stomach and up his throat, tiny pinpricks making their way up as he gagged and leaned over, vomiting into his hand.

A tiny black kitten covered in thick, opaque mucus squirmed in his grasp, blinking up at him imploringly. Terrified, Ciel began to cough, a second kitten joining the first. And then another. And another.

* * *

Ciel's eyes snapped open. His waking senses suddenly flared to life as he registered the sound of rain beating onto his window, loud and lively. Breathing deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth, he attempted to calm his heart, massaging the tender spot on his chest where it seemed to be pounding an indent into.

"Sebastian." He said, his voice frighteningly even for having just awoken from such a strange dream.

"My lord." The whispered reply came. Sebastian had come in record time, the door barely even finished swinging open as the butler knelt at the side of his master's bed. He was clothed in an unbuttoned dress shirt and a pair of black slacks that hung strangely low on his hips. Any other time, Ciel would've blushed violently and averted his gaze, but his head and heart were still reeling and the only thing that mattered to him now was Sebastian's presence.

"Sit on the edge of my bed." He instructed calmly. Sebastian did not reply, but merely stood and perched himself on the edge of the earl's bed, running a hand through his dark tresses. Ciel stared, nodding to himself for no particular reason. It would seem as if he had just awoken the butler from one of the rare times he'd allowed himself to sleep. Sebastian was staring at him imploringly, hands folded into his lap, awaiting his next command.

"I want you to stay in here with me at night." Ciel continued, pulling the covers up over him. "Only leave if you need to use the lavatory or if there is an emergency. Understood?"

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian was still watching him, eyes glowing softly in the darkness. Ciel tilted his head to one side as he studied the curiously soft expression upon his servant's face. He finally felt the promise of deep sleep wash over him for the first time in a fortnight, smiling softly to himself.

Because Sebastian was finally by his side.

* * *

"'_There's fennel for you, and columbine: there's rue for you; and here's some for me. We may call it "herb of grace" o' Sundays. Oh, you must wear your rue with a difference—there's a daisy. I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died. They say he made a good end.'_" Ciel read from the heavy volume set before him. Nearby, Soma sat in on the earl's lesson, attempting to balance a pencil on his upper lip. Ciel usually would've rejected his presence during tutoring, but the prince was being startlingly mild-mannered for one so usually animated and whiny.

The earl's tutor leaned across the desk and nodded, adjusting her glasses on her crooked nose. "Very good; now do you know the symbolism behind the flowers?"

"Fennel and columbines together represent adultery." The teenager rattled off, tracing his finger over the print. "Rue is obviously for repentance. Daises can symbolize either unhappy love or virginity; while wild daises stand for 'dost thou love me'?"

The tutor smiled and nodded as Soma leaned this way and that, attempting to keep the pencil perched upon his lip. "And violets?"

"Faithfulness. But it's obvious that Shakespeare was indicating Ophelia's faithfulness to Hamlet was lost once he killed Polonius." Ciel observed, dipping his quill in ink and copying his thoughts onto the piece of parchment beside him. "'_For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy_'. Since Robin is capitalized in this verse, does this mean that Ophelia referring to a man by the name of Robin, or the bird?"

"Well, Ophelia is coo-coo bananas, right?" Soma asked, leaning forward and dropping his pencil into his hand. "She could actually be referring to the bird, but _thinks_ it's a man since she lost her mind."

Ciel frowned, shaking his head. "That doesn't seem likely, even given the circumstances."

"While your friend may have a point," The tutor interrupted. Soma grinned like a fool at the word 'friend'. "There's still not enough evidence in the passage to back up his assertion that Ophelia has hallucinated up a person named Robin. Though it's good to see you have noticed the use of 'robin' as a proper known, Earl Phantomhive. Make a note on that and I'd like to hear your further thoughts on it tomorrow."

Ciel nodded, following the woman's instructions and writing down the appropriate page and line next to his notes on floral symbolism. The blonde turned to Soma, smiling warmly. "Would you like to continue reading for Laertes?"

"Of course!" Soma cheered, all popping out of his seat as he hovered over the earl and cleared his throat. "'_Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself—this bitch is crazy._'"

Both Ciel and his tutor turned to pin wide, incredulous eyes on the young man, who grinned sheepishly. "What? I was paraphrasing…"

"I… believe that will be enough for the day, Earl Phantomhive." The woman cleared her throat and pushed off of her chair, gathering up her supplies and sweeping them into her bag quickly. Ciel pinned a one-eyed glare on the Indian prince, who proceeded to hum innocently and twiddle his thumbs as if he had just not befouled the good name of William Shakespeare in front of an esteemed tutor.

"I apologize for him, Miss Easton." He sighed, standing and following the woman out of the study, leaving Soma in his wake. The woman was hurrying along, ducking her head as she rushed down the hallway. "He's…. he's the caretaker of this place, and despite his strange mannerisms, he is quite good at his job." Ciel cringed inwardly at the thought of actually complimenting the prince.

"I understand, but those 'mannerisms' are quite harrowing, to say the least." The woman said as she quickly descended the stairs, Ciel on her heels. She paused at the base of the stairway, turning to face Ciel as she backed towards the door. "I would prefer that he no longer sat in on our English lessons from now until. Until then, I have matters to attend to elsewhere—."

"Miss?"

The woman blinked as she promptly backed into Agni, who cocked his head to one side and smiled. "Please allow me to show you out." He extended his bandaged hand towards the door with a small bow. Flustered, Miss Easton nodded and ducked her head once more, following the butler towards the double doors. Sighing irately, Ciel pressed his fingers to his temple and glared out of the corner of his eye.

'_I knew it was too good to last_.' He thought as he began up the stairs in a huff. "_Soma_—!"

Catching a faint movement out of the corner of his eye, Ciel paused at the top of the hallway, eyes pinned to the dark silhouette of a tree brushing its limbs against the window. Licking his lips, Ciel approached the window, squinting into the twilight as his fingers brushed against the pane, his frustrations with Soma momentarily forgotten. As he stood, fat drops of rain began to pelt the window and the earl pressed against it.

He had definitely seen something. Based on the way the dying leaves were rustling and yielding to the wind, it had just been a wayward branch whipping about in the violent gales. But there seemed to be something out of place that Ciel just couldn't put his finger on—

There. There was a slight discoloration in the gaps between the copper-colored leaves; darker than the nearly ink-black night sky beyond it. The earl leaned forward, nearly pressing his nose to the glass in an attempt to figure what it could be. Suddenly, the frame of the discoloration gave a violent shiver and shifted, etching a full silhouette within that of the tree's branches. There was horrible series of splintering cracks as it tore through the limbs of the oak and burst through the window, sending a shower of glass shards over the young earl.

Ciel found himself backing away as fast as his feet could carry him in reverse, his head whipping back and forth as he pushed out an incredulous laugh. There was no way the thing had found him—_no feasible way_ that it had managed to infiltrate his fortresses, his barriers, everything he put between himself and that loathed sensation of vulnerability. Not a first time. _Not a second time_.

Body taking over, Ciel threw himself down the hall. Once again, he was beyond thought; instinct had taken over—raw and bitterly horrified—and the only thing that mattered was getting to safety. To warm arms that would envelop him and save him from this thing, these feelings, everything that had been haunting and perverting his mind for weeks.

The snatcher, on the other hand, had different plans. Deathly quiet and lithe, it reached out with one of the thin talons curling from the tips of its wings and seized the young man by the shoulder, thrusting him up against a wall. Instantly, the shock settled within Ciel, rendering him immobile for a split second. Slowly, he raised his single visible eye in defiance of his attacker.

A milky red iris void of any whites or pupils bored back into him. The harpy was easily seven feet tall, covered from its rounded head to its massive bottom talons in glossy black feathers. Its shoulders jutted out around its head, folding into massive wings ending in thin, misshapen talons that could've been phalanges. One of the feathered appendages was wrapped around Ciel, giving him a clear view of the cavity in its fleshy grey chest where a clearly-visible heart throbbed and squirmed. However, the most frightening part of the creature was its blood-encrusted beak, which descended into wicked hook-like curve.

The harpy clicked its head to one side like a perplexed avian, clucking softly as it shuttered once more, sending tiny ripples through its thick cover of feathers. The creature stunk of vomit and rotting animal entrails, causing his stomach to roll. Ciel felt his heart flutter violently in his chest as he attempted to still his breathing, forcing himself to be as still as possible. Making another surreally-soft caw, the creature pressed its beak to the flat plane of Ciel's stomach and reared its head back.

Then it was gone, Ciel's vision obscured by a field of black. Blinking, he registered the soft brush of fabric against his nose and the bittersweet smell of Sebastian. Strong arms curled around Ciel, a harrowing tremble of anger running throughout the demon's body as he began to growl loudly in the base of his throat. Feebly, Ciel pressed shaking hands to the demon's chest as his mind returned to focus. In a split second, the butler had knocked the harpy out from its position around Ciel and promptly wrapped himself around the earl. The snatcher was now shrieking loudly, drawing its claws back and slashing relentlessly at the demon's back. Sebastian pulled back and snarled, his wine-colored eyes flashing scarlet as he wheeled around and drew his own claws over the creature's opaque eyes.

The avian shrieked again, its finger-like talons scratching violently at its face as it fell back. Cat-like red snapped to Ciel for a split second before Sebastian's familiar warmth left him and the demon was upon the harpy.

In the seven years of Sebastian's service, only once had Ciel seen such a violent and purely animalistic display of slaughter from the demon—the day that they had met. Tattered robes and a long sheet of black hair—the click of those ridiculous boots upon marble and concrete and the screams of the cultists as they were silenced by the long red-black claws digging into their throats.

To say the least, it was frightening to see Sebastian loose his composure against the harpy. Each time the demon drew his claws over the bird in a strangely feline manner, there was a flash and spatter of crimson over the walls and floor. The harpy charged forward, fanning out its wings to their full span and rasping its claws against Sebastian's chin as the demon jerked backwards. A low, distinctly feline growl formed in the demon's throat as he crouched low to the ground, sanguine eyes pinned to opaque red. The harpy's wings flinched several times at it loomed over Sebastian and cawed in victory.

But the crouch was not one of defeat. With a violent snarl, Sebastian lunged forward and dug his claws into the snatcher's eye, ripping the milky orb from the socket with the awful sound of straining and snapping tendons. Dark fluid burst over Sebastian's fingers as he pierced the eye on one of his claws, cocking his head to one side and drawing his tongue over the freshly-spilled blood as a fanged grin curled onto his face

Taking little time to savor the hit, Sebastian flung the remains of the eye from his fingers and dodged forward, seizing the avian by its neck and wrenching it down to his height. Massive wings beating uselessly, the bird began to swing at its opponent's face with slender talons. Sebastian scoffed and pressed his hand into the cavity of the bird's chest as it writhed and struggled in his grip.

"_Sebastian_!"

"_Ciel_!"

The butler glanced over his shoulder coolly at the approaching prince and his own servant, expression twisting into that of dark realization and then pain as the harpy thrashed the tip of his beak into the demon's shoulder. Instinctively, Sebastian released his grip on the creature as it tore itself from his grasp and launched out of the broken window, leaving behind a dark trail of blood.

"Sebastian!" Agni cried, quickly joining the butler's side as Sebastian pressed his palm into the deep puncture wound. "You're—." Surprised brown eyes flicked from Sebastian's wound to the damaged window. "What in Shiva's name _was_ that thing—some sort of Rakshasa or demon?"

Sebastian chuckled darkly at the suggestion as Ciel peeled himself from where he had been glued to the wall.

"It was called a snatcher." He explained, frighteningly composed for one who had nearly just been killed. "It was the assassin that was hunting me—the reason we came here was to hide from it. With all the people and pollution about, my scent would be harder to detect." He paused, glancing out the shattered window. "But I suppose he found me."

"Well there's no way it's getting back in here while _I'm_ around!" Soma declared, hitting his chest enthusiastically. "Agni! Help Sebastian with his wounds immediately and then set to repairing the window."

"Yes, sir." Agni nodded, pressing his hands together and bending into a low bow. Sebastian shook his head, a lock of black hair flying astray from behind his ear while Agni began to usher him towards the lavatory.

"There's no need—." He began, but was swiftly cut off by Ciel.

"Sebastian, you're wounded. Allow Agni to help you clean up and meet me in the parlor when you're finished." He ordered. "I know you have been keeping something from me, and I want everything laid out on the table for me as soon as possible."

Sebastian locked his eyes with Ciel, who raised his chin and cocked an eyebrow, as if challenging the demon to reject his orders. Releasing a soft sigh and humorless chuckle, Sebastian shook his head. "Yes, my lord."

"Good." Ciel nodded curtly as Agni rushed up to him, securing his arms around one of the earl's.

"I was so worried for you, Ciel!" He fussed, beginning to drag the smaller teen down the hallway. "I didn't know what was happening when I heard—."

"_Don't. Touch. Me._"

Soma froze and met Ciel's gaze, only to find a single violet eye pinning him with violent intensity. Ciel promptly jerked his arm away from Soma's grasp and started down the hallway, taking even, controlled strides as he attempted to steady his breathing. This attack marked the end of his ignorance to the situation. It was painfully obvious that Sebastian knew something about the harpy as well as Ciel, as evidenced by his silent discussion with Undertaker a fortnight ago. He was tired of allowing himself to be partially blinded to the events now consuming his life.

* * *

It was nights like these that Leona Fitzpatrick lived for: curled on the rug with a heavy volume of Poe before a crackling hearth. Outside of her estate, the wind ran through the dying trees, bringing with it the scent of fall on the cusp of winter—crisp and streaked with the sweet scent of dead leaves. The succubus sighed and draped one of her favorite mink furs over her shoulders, long fingers glossing over the golden-emblazoned text: _The Raven._

Giggling at the irony, Leona flipped the book open and rested her cheek upon her palm, gazing over the text with heavily-lidded eyes. However, her relaxation was painfully short-lived as her library telephone gave a shrill ring. Huffing, the blonde buried herself further into her pelts, attempting to ignore the persistent ringing. But the second the serenade of several rings had ceased, it began to ring again. For a moment, Leona considered merely destroying the thing—but quickly decided against it. It was a brand-new telephone and she had grown white fond of the floral designs wrapping around the golden spinner. With a long, dramatic sigh, Leona pushed herself from the rug and crossed the room, plucking up the receiver with a light hand.

"Hello?"

"YOU HARLOT!" A breathy voice shrieked over the other end. Leona wrenched the phone away from her ear, shaking her head.

"Calm down, Cosette. I can hear you from all the way in the guest house." She sighed, silently wishing that she was exaggerating the severity of her companion's cries. "Now tell me what the matter is, love."

"_HE NEARLY KILLED MY BABY_!" Cosette sobbed, releasing a shuttering breath. "YOU SAID THAT HE WOULDN'T LAY A HAND ON MY ICKLE SWEETIE AT ALL, MUCH LESS A SECOND TIME! YOU ARE A FILTHY, LYING WHORE!"

"Cosette." Leona sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and massaging gently in an attempt to warm her temple. "Please relax, darling. So we underestimated his ability, we'll just have to—."

"THERE IS NO 'WE'! I'M TAKING MY BABY AND WE'RE GOING BACK TO PARIS_!_" Screamed the younger of the two. There was the feint sound of the harpy cawing softly and Cosette gasped dramatically. "Ooooh, la_… __Maman vous aime plus que tout au monde entier, ma douce. Avez-dire que le chat de vous blesser mauvais, mon bébé? Nous allons rentrer à la maison bientôt, mon bébé, pas de soucis!_"

"_Cosette_." Leona said in a low, warning tone.

"_Quelle!?_" Screamed Cosette. "What more do you want from me?! If you want this done the way you want, you're going to have to take care of the problem yourself, you selfish harlot! It's absolutely ridiculous that you dragged us all the way out here to take care of a job you just could've taken care of when you saw the little slut the first time—!"

"_COSETTE_." Snarled the blonde, hair standing on end as she curled her claws around the receiver. The younger of the two fell silent, save for a gentle whimper. Leona sighed, smoothing down her hair with one hand as she composed herself. "Now, you know as well as I do that these things don't work that way—it is your area of expertise after all."

"Why can't we just kill him?" Whined Cosette. "If the incubus doesn't kill the human himself, he usually just takes off after he finds out. And—and even in those cases they're not stupid enough to try and fight back. But—but my _baby_… he nearly got his filthy paws on my baby's widdle heart!"

"Stop talking like that, you sound like an idiot." Leona rolled her eyes, propping herself up on the telephone stand. "Obviously we're dealing with someone a bit more powerful than the typical incubus."

There was a pause over the line. "You didn't smell _that_ on him, did you?"

"It was crowded, dearest. I just smelled the scent of cambion in the human—though depending on genetics, it could be possible. You smell it on the snatcher?" Leona inquired. Cosette paused over her line.

"Oh dear." She whispered. "He smells like cat, Leona… _Leona, he smells like cat_!"

"Shut up, Cosette." Said Leona smoothly, no trace of concern in her voice. "So we're dealing with a half-incubus half-cat demon. That's nothing we haven't faced before. Stop hyperventilating, Cosette."

"_How can I not_?" Whimpered the woman on the other end of the line. "We'd have to face him directly, then, Leona—we'd be bringing my baby with us, too. That's… a _thing_ like that is not something to be taken lightly, especially when dealing with its kin." She paused, presumably worrying her lip. "Ooooh Leona… Animal demons tend to be _very_ protective, Leona. It's no wonder that he's actually stuck around."

"If you would've done your research like you were supposed to, then we wouldn't be having this problem." Leona huffed, running a hand through her bangs. "Look; I'll make this simple for both of us. You go to him in parlay and tell him our conditions: he takes the cambion out of the picture, or we're going to do it for him—and his little harlot will go with it."

"But Leona!" Cosette continued to whine. There was a clucking as she pulled the snatcher up to her breast so that it was breathing obnoxiously into the receiver. "Why do _I _have to do it? You always make me do these things!"

"You know I'm no good with controlling myself." Hummed the elder of the two, extending her claws and admiring them in the firelight, as if to make a point to herself. "If we want to have this settled peacefully without dragging anyone else into the equation, you're going to have to take care of the social matters." She smiled with false intent into the receiver. "That's why you're so good at your job, lovie."

Cosette made a show of huffing and pouting and readjusting the massive bird she was most definitely crushing in her arms by that point before giving a melodramatic sigh. "Fine then, I'll go tomorrow. I want this over with as soon as possible, especially if we're dealing with something like _that_."

Leona continued to grin. "I knew you'd agree."

* * *

"You should drink something."

Ciel glanced up from the teacup set in his hands into Agni's eyes. The tall man forced a weary smile, not even bothering to block the concern that clouded his features. Thanking him softly, Ciel raised the china to his lips and took a small tip, swirling the contents of the tea as he relaxed into the parlor seat. Somehow, Sebastian has weaseled his way out of Agni's grasp in the quarter of an hour in which the human butler had aided him with bandages. Already, Agni had temporarily repaired the window with plain brown wrapping paper and prepared milk chai for both Ciel and Soma, the latter of which was curled up by the window, clutching a throw pillow to his chest and watching the night sky with a determined expression.

When Ciel had asked what in God's name the prince had been doing, he had responded—quite plainly: "Looking for demon birds. I'm not letting them try to hurt you again." No matter how ridiculous the notion of the prince against a harpy was, Ciel couldn't help but feel oddly touched at Soma's insistence to protect him.

Ciel shook his head, covering a wry smirk as he leaned his face into his palm. Yes, there was definitely something wrong with him when he was touched by Soma's antics.

"I apologize for the inconvenience."

There was a gentle click of the knob as Sebastian entered the room, dressed in his perfectly clean and pressed tailcoat uniform. The small scratches that the harpy had left were already faded to angry pink scars along his cheek. Ciel sat up straight, narrowing his eyes. Sebastian usually would've taken care to dress the inexplicably-healed wounds in the presence of Soma and Agni in order to mask the already strained illusion of a normal human.

"It's fine." Ciel said before either Agni or Soma could speak. "Now, then. I'd like you to tell me exactly what is going on."

Sebastian glanced out the corner of his eye at the two other occupants of the room. "_Now_, Sebastian." Ciel growled, growing quickly impatient. The demon sighed and made a small bow.

"Yes, my lord."

"Now sit down." The earl gestured weakly at the parlor couch opposite him, upon which Sebastian rested a split second later. Ciel made a small, satisfied noise and crossed his legs, resting his elbow on the plush arm of the couch and propping up his cheek.

"What would you like to know first, young master?" Inquired the demon softly. Ciel shifted slightly as he considered the question.

"The arsonists were the same people who sent the snatcher after me, were they not?" He asked in return to Sebastian's question.

"Most likely. I wouldn't see any reason for it to be otherwise, especially considering who your attackers are." He explained in an even tone; Ciel bolted upright, dropping his hand to the couch.

"You've known who sent that _thing _after me all this time?!" He cried incredulously, his single eye narrowing in fury. "You—."

"Not individuals." Sebastian interrupted, holding up a gloved hand. "But I have a very clear idea of the type of people sending it after you. As you may have noticed, my lord, the harpy still had a heart. It's not being controlled by anyone."

"Then it's attacking me of its own accord? That seems unlikely. While the harpy did seem lethal, I doubt that it would be capable of tracking down my largest confectionary supplier and leaving a threatening message." Ciel frowned. He shot Agni and Soma a brief glance—the two seemed completely lost to the conversation occurring before them. The earl's attention snapped back to his butler when Sebastian continued.

"The snatcher is a pet, most likely." He explained. Ciel raised an eyebrow.

"Under contract?"

"No." He was met with a quick reply. "I'd assume that it is acting out of a sense of loyalty for its owner; since it would not attack you itself given the circumstances."

"Circumstances." Ciel repeated flatly, placing both feet on the ground and leaning forward. "_What. Circumstances_?"

Sebastian heaved a sigh and pressed the pads of his fingers to his head, running them through his hair. Ciel instantly recognized the demon's frustrated mannerisms. "I'd have to… it's difficult to explain, m'lord. You may wish to discuss this with me in private at a later time—."

"Sebastian." Ciel said, in a disturbingly placid tone. A sheet of grey-blue hair was obscuring his face from the others in the room as he leaned over his feat, wrapping his hands before him. "I have been attacked twice by a mythical creature, moved from my home, vomited uncontrollably for weeks, and been the obvious subject of silent conversation between you and a crazed mortician." His eyes slowly rose, pinning his servant to place. "I want to know. _Now_."

Ciel's hand flew to the cotton patch obscuring his marked eye, a clear threat to make a permanent command, even if he was in the presence of the bewildered Agni and Soma. Sebastian met his demanding gaze with calm wine-colored eyes, sighed and bowed his head.

"It was most likely the child." He said in a low tone. Soma perked up from his perch on the window seat, cocking his head from side to side.

"Child? What child?" He glanced around, as if expecting a tiny person to pop out of a cupboard. Ciel narrowed his eyes, tilting his head in confusion before leaning forward.

"What do you mean?" He asked slowly, as if he were speaking to someone extremely stupid.

"I have reason to believe it was a succubus that sent the harpy after you. It smelled strongly of one." Sebastian lowered his gaze, not even bothering to meet the earl's perplexed stare. "They're notoriously… _discriminatory_ of cambions, due to the fact that they believe human blood shouldn't taint theirs. They usually choose to eliminate the carrier and cambion earlier on."

"Camby-what?" Soma inquired, plodding over to where Agni stood, the pair of them looking completely lost. Ciel blinked several times, frowning.

"That's wonderful, but whatever does that have to do with me—."

The words died in his throat as sick realization bloomed in his chest, tingling and numb like a limb cut off from blood flow. Sebastian raised his eyes to Ciel's from behind parted sheets of black, expression as unreadable as ever.

'_A cambion. The product of a human and an incubus or succubus_.'

Ciel found himself laughing, dry and humorless. "Surely you can't be serious."

"I don't get it!" Soma interjected, his golden eyes wide and confused as he glanced at the earl and then at the butler. "What's going on? Agni, what's going on?"

"I…" The same sort of strange realization was beginning to dawn on Agni's face as he turned to his master. "I believe we should give these two a moment, Master Soma…"

"What? Why?" Quipped the prince as he was gently ushered out of the room. The door closed behind them with a heavy _thud_. Ciel and Sebastian continued to stare at each other, completely frozen. Ciel could still not feel his body. It was as if he were completely detached, numb everywhere save for his mind, where the same thing was running through his head, again and again:

'_That's impossible. That's impossible. That'simpossibleimpossibleimpossible—_.'

"You're lying."

'_I can't… no. There must be some sort of miscommunication. But… vivid dreams, the vomiting… he _is_ a demon… but there are necessary components I lack._' He released another dry, nervous laugh, feeling his composure melt away all over again. He was stripped down to his barest, most vulnerable form before the demon once more. It was ridiculous. He could hold his own after being nearly killed by a creature that could have very well stood a chance against Sebastian, but the moment the idea of something invading his _body_ came into play—

"I would never lie to you, my lord."

—Ciel felt himself fall apart at the seams, shock and disbelief playing over his face as clear as color. His fear of his home, of his room, of his _life_ being infiltrated by something threatening and foreign had originally stemmed from the initial violation of his body.

"_You're. Lying_."

He should have never let Sebastian into him. The demon was far too deep in his body, his head, even his—

"There's… I believe there's a biological explanation, but I'm in no position to go into depth about the implications."

Ciel nearly sobbed in horror. The same, dark realization that had hit him before Sebastian had initially entered his body—no—when Sebastian had come into his life, an abrupt, dark, all-consuming entity; that same, awful curdling feeling was returning to him full-force, after weeks of attempting to quell it.

"You…"

Ciel loved him.

"Yes… my lord?"

It was as simple and as convoluted at that. Ciel loved him, and Sebastian had fucked him. Fucked. Not slept with, not _made love_ with, not even had sex with—Sebastian had fucked him in the rawest, most empty sense of the word, because that was what he had asked for.

"This." His hand flew to his abdomen. "This is… yours?"

And Ciel had thought, ever since then, that the growing concern, the lingering touches, the electric gazes that had followed the event—that they had meant something deeper than the lustful night that they had shared. But all there was—

"Yes."

—was a carnal desire to protect the abomination that had been created between them.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

CIEL USES "VETO THIS SHIT"! IT'S SUPER EFFECTIVE! SEBASTIAN WAS HIT!

SEBASTIAN USES SHOCKING TRUTH! ITS SUPER EFFECTIVE! CIEL IS CONFUSED! CIEL HURT HIMSELF IN HIS CONFUSION.

OMG. IT'S AN MPREG?! OH WOW I NEVER WOULD'VE GUESSED BECAUSE MOOSEY IS SO GOOD AT BEING SURREPTITIOUS AND NOT DROPPING BOMB-SIZED HINTS. Yessss, I went there. And you probably knew that I was going to go there to, so nyeh. Also, don't expect me to go into the biological plotfuckhole that is my explanation behind mpreg—because it involves the appendix (the original function of which was OBVIOUSLY for men to produce butt-babies with), the prostate, and a lot of other random bio-fail that would make my freshmen biology teacher weep. So let's just agree on the fact that Sebastian has a magical dick and move on.

Also:

This. THIS was the chapter that gave me nightmares. The night after I wrote the rape scene, I had an awful dream about a cute little girl being kidnapped, raped and murdered. It was really bad. Strangely enough, writing that scene didn't really hit me until after I had the dream. I'm sorry if that was difficult for you guys to read or if you had to skip over that part.

As for the rest of the story, I had some real fun with Soma. I know I use his as comic relief a lot and I'm _reaaaally _stretching it when he reads Laertes' part, but I find it necessary to buffer difficult scenes with humor.

Those of you who are paying attention to the chapter titles will start to catch on to the significance of Ophelia's insanity as well as the meanings of the flowers ;3


	5. Fumaria

"**Broken Pieces"**

**Chapter Five**

**Fumaria**

_"The only limitations we encounter in life are those__  
__self-limiting ones we place on ourselves."_

___Anonymous_

There are moments that are suspended in one's mind from the point they transpire until their death—moments that turn and move slowly, like silk through water. A split second transfixed behind your eyes whenever they are closed.

The image of Sebastian leaning over the couch, staring intently at Ciel was forever burned in the teenager's mind. There was something apologetic in those claret eyes, the first sincere emotion that Ciel had ever experienced from Sebastian. It was as if he were incapable of putting those emotions into words (Ciel almost snorted. That was a first from the demon, no doubt) and frankly, his master did not blame him. No words were exchanged, but _everything_ hung between them, heavy and forbidden.

Then without warning or preamble, Soma burst into the room wielding a candelabrum.

"_Foul beast_!" He cried, loping the unlit candlestick holder at the demon, where it landed several feet away from him with a dull _thump_. Seconds later, he dashed across the room, holding Ciel close to his chest and made his best ferocious expression, which simply came across as an irate pout. "How dare you impregnate my best friend!"

"Master Soma…" Agni warned, following the prince into the room with an exasperated expression. "I told you that theory in confidence—I don't know the meaning of the word 'cambion' in this…" He trailed off, glancing from the butler to the earl. "Situation."

"He used his evil Rakshasa magic to force my best friend to be a host for his demon seed!" Soma wailed, now shielding the earl with his body. Sebastian released a low, warning growl at the young man's contact with Ciel—such was met with Agni tugging at the bandages encircling his hands, eyes locked nervously on Sebastian.

"Get off of me." Ciel ordered, shoving the prince to the floor. "You don't understand the situation."

"What's there to understand?" Soma shouted earnestly, looking from Ciel to Sebastian and back. "He—he _defiled_ you!"

Something wrenched in Ciel's chest as he found his face twisting into a scowl. "He did no such thing. I'm telling you: _you misunderstand the situation_."

"Then you allowed him to bed you willingly?" Soma gasped, much like a wide-eyed child first learning of man's sexual nature.

"Who said that there was any risqué business going about?" Ciel argued, meeting Soma's accusation with a cool glare.

"You're hosting his seed, are you not?" Soma countered, frowning.

"Master—." Agni began as Sebastian settled back into the parlor seat, pressing the pads of his fingers to his forehead and rubbing small circles into his temple.

"This has gotten far too out of hand." Sighed the demon, "I assure you I have not harmed the young master in any way, nor done anything that has not been instructed of me."

"So wait." Soma looked perplexed as he looked from Ciel to Sebastian once more—slowly, this time, as if some great epiphany was beginning to dawn over him. "He… ordered you to get him pregnant?"

"_Who said anything about being pregnant_?" Ciel all but screeched. The three others stared at the infuriated young man, who looked about ready to rip the next person who spoke to shreds. Soma slowly raised a single finger towards Agni, his face petrified. The earl fixed a twitching eye onto the Indian butler.

"I… I mistook the meanings of your words, and most likely made a poor translation." Agni made a slight bow. "It was foolish of me to mistake Mister Sebastian as a demon—."

"You were right."

Sebastian sat erect, looking shocked as he stared at Ciel, who glanced away with a furious blush. "My lord—?"

"I… Soma was right." The crimson-faced earl admitted softly. "Because… the truth… it's… I'm infertile."

"I-infertile?" Soma repeated slowly, as if he was having trouble processing the meaning of the word. Agni seemed as if he had just entered a state of shock as well, and Sebastian looked like a cat who had just witnessed its owner willingly run face-first into a stone wall. Repeatedly.

"You see," Ciel began, still spotting the falsely timid expression as he shuffled awkwardly and bit his finger; much like an embarrassed young woman would do so. "I fear for my family line. The Phantomhive family has a strange and consistent history of their male heirs dying quite young—keeping this in mind, I… for the past year, my fiancée Elizabeth and I have been attempting to conceive." '_Kill me now. Kill me now because this lie is possibly worse than wearing a corset and being molested by an effeminate viscount_.' "I knew it was terribly improper of me to invite my fiancée to bed before we were wed—much less attempt to conceive a child with her… but… in my poor health, I found it necessary to do so."

He dashed a non-existent tear from his cheek as he gently rested his palm there, concealing his flush born of humiliation from the farce. "But sadly, we were unable to conceive a child after many months of trying—and I eventually came to the conclusion that it was my impotence that was causing the problem."

Neither Agni nor Soma questioned the leap in logic as Ciel continued with his dramatic performance. "But… after confiding in Sebastian, I discovered that his demon magic could be used to create a sire a strong, healthy child with demon blood that would live and carry on a strong, healthy line of Phantomhives. However, due to a contract that I had formed with him when he saved my life on a moonlit night—." '_Dear lord, what is this, an Emily Brontë novel_?' "—he would only be able to sire this child with me and me alone. So I put aside all reservations and asked him to do so." '_This… this is worse than a Brontë novel. This is clearly the twisted bastard of my mind's perversions brought on by so many sleepless nights. I am clearly insane_.'

"How…" Soma began lowly, raising a tear-stained face to Ciel, hands trembling and eyes wide in awe. His mouth was agape as he shook his head, attempting to find the proper words for the surge of emotions flooding his brain. "How _touching_! Such a selfless act is nothing less than I would expect from my dearest of friends, Ciel Phantomhive!"

The prince sprang from the floor, gathering the bewildered Sebastian's hands in his own. "Sebastian? Is this true?"

The demon stared at his master, who gave him the slightest nod—an affirmation to go along with the strange and elaborate lie. "It is very true." Sebastian said evenly, eyes meeting Soma's. "And now others of my kind are after the young master, believing his child to be an abomination."

Soma gasped dramatically and Ciel wanted to embed his head in the wall—the abandoned candelabrum lying on the floor was also looking particularly tantalizing as well.

"Agni!" The prince turned with great flourish of his arms, bangles jingling merrily as he did so. His beaming smile was a stark contrast to the foul look Ciel was sporting, locked with Sebastian's neutral and unreadable one. "We must do everything in our power to help protect Ciel and his child from these foul creatures, do you understand?"

Agni was still standing in the doorway, stock-still, the tips of his fingers still hovering over the bandages concealing his right hand. He shook himself from his trance and nodded in agreement. "Of course, Master Soma. I will do whatever it takes."

"Excellent!" Soma chirped, clapping his hands together before turning back to the earl and his servant. "We should make some dinner to celebrate!"

"Actually," Ciel began, pushing up from off of the couch. "I was about to retire to my room along with Sebastian. We had some manners to discuss concerning the recent attacks—due to which I am not feeling necessarily hungry."

"I shall set a bowl of curry aside for you." Agni pressed his hands together and bent into a small bow before Soma urged him out of the parlor, waving his arms.

"Don't bother them! Leave them be—." The red-violet haired prince fussed as he and Agni disappeared down the hall; as soon as the door slammed behind them, Ciel stood and walked over to the wall, bracing his hands on either side of his head.

"What," Said Sebastian smoothly. "Exactly are you doing, my lord?"

"Killing myself." Ciel answered simply. "I would assume there would be better ways of going about it, but smashing my head into a bloody pulp against this wall seems like an appropriately painful and effective method considering the humiliation I have just subjected myself to."

"I disagree. It was a… how would you put it?" He frowned, pressing a single finger to his lips and considering the words. "A 'good save'? Despite the expression, it was clever—and more importantly, Master Soma seemed to buy it without question."

"I couldn't very well hide it forever." Ciel reasoned, turning away from the wall and hanging his head in exhaustion. Suddenly, Sebastian's fingers had tenderly wrapped around the earl's chin, tilting his face up to meet soft eyes the color of meritage.

"So you intend to go through with it?"

The earl froze, taking in the impossibly gentle expression as the demon's eyebrows knitted together gently. _Softly_. The next moment that hung within Ciel's mind for the remainder of his life had soon followed the first—

And in a moment, it had all been drained away. The concern, the gentle caresses, the altered, almost uncharacteristically subdued demeanor of the butler—it was not for Ciel. It was for the _thing_ cultivating within him. Biting back tears, Ciel worried his lip and sharply glanced away.

"We've already gone this far, haven't we?" He asked coldly. Sebastian hummed in agreement, dropping his hand from Ciel's person and raising it to his chin as he regarded his young master's words.

"I suppose." He concurred. "But with the way things are, the frequency of the attacks will only worsen. They've discovered your whereabouts in a populated, polluted city that would be nigh impossible for any lesser demons to track you in. If we were to move elsewhere, it would only be a matter of time—."

"We won't run."

Ciel met Sebastian's cool expression with a determined one, raising his chin in defiance of the situation at hand. "I refuse to bow to the whims of whatever lowly being that has chosen to make me their target. I may be… _incapacitated_," He winced. "But I assure you, Sebastian, that I am far from allowing them to trample upon me. We will meet their advances head-on." His eye flashed as he narrowed it into a glare and the demon dropped to one knee, folding his arm close to his chest.

"Yes, my lord."

"Good." Ciel turned towards the door of the parlor. "And what I said before about retiring to my room was far from a lie." He felt a strange little flush come over his cheeks. "I… I am actually quite exhausted after this evening's ordeal."

Sebastian's lips tweaked into a little smirk as he held the door open for his master, following him up the stairwell. "As to be expected."

* * *

'_I am doing this for selfish reasons_.'

Ciel sighed once more, flinching as the action spawned several aches in his back. As he had done every night since Ciel's request, Sebastian was perched upon the edge of the bed as still as a watching gargoyle. His hands were folded in his lap, eyes obscured by a sheet of ebony hair. As Ciel watched his steady breathing and attempted to reach sleep, his mind began to turn.

Any sensible man would've made the choice to kill the abomination without any second thoughts. He was _male_. It was far from natural or sane to allow himself to go through a process that could very well distort his mind and body—and not to mention, the mechanics of which were painfully unclear. Sebastian had mentioned that there was some sort of biology behind it, but Ciel did not want to wrap his mind around the thought of a clawed little beast crawling from his abdomen in eight months.

Besides, it wasn't as if the thing had been conceived out of _love_. At least, not in Sebastian's eyes. As Ciel saw it, the demon looked upon this process in strictly animalistic terms: they'd fucked, Ceil had gotten pregnant, and now it was his duty to guard the one who carried his child until it arrived.

Child.

It was the first time that evening that Ciel had fully considered whatever was growing inside himself to be a child.

Ciel nearly shivered at the thought as memories of his younger self washed up upon his mind—bright eyed, naïve, timid, and sweet-tempered. A far cry from his current cynical and cold self. It was strange to think of something bred with both those mannerisms and Sebastian's. Ciel nearly laughed: the poor thing would be a schizophrenic mess of a being.

'_Hush my dear one, sleep serenely. Now my lovely, go to sleep_.'

Would Ciel be expected to care for the child as his mother did with him? He remembered his mother's tender caress and the adoration that shone in her eyes—could he possibly touch the child with hands so tainted, and look down upon it with his eyes that had witnessed so much?

Could he love it?

'_Why?_' Thought Ciel as he rolled into a sitting position, holding his throbbing head in his hands. Sebastian glanced over from where he sat, those haunting eyes glinting in the darkness, as they always did. 'Why _do I think these things? I know it will only serve to torment me more in the future… but… but just for now, just for tonight—._'

"Sebastian, lay beside me." Ciel requested in a whisper. "I want you to sleep beside me from now on."

There was a moment of hesitation—during which the room was filled with a light static— before Sebastian's hands wondered to the buttons of his vest, peeling the article of clothing away and folding it neatly. For a moment, Ciel's sleep-deprived mind giddily began to wonder if Sebastian was going to strip himself of his clothing completely. The demon worked to undo the first several buttons of his dress shirt and laid beside the earl in placid silence.

Moments passed during which Ciel feigned sleep, knowing that in truth they were staring at each other through closed eyes. But slowly, slowly the last remainders of that friction ebbed away and were replaced with the dull hum of shallow sleep—what could've been hours or mere moments later, Ciel opened his eyes a second time and regarded a most curious sight:

For the first time, he was witnessing Sebastian asleep.

His smooth, angular face seemed to have relaxed into an expression much gentler than Ciel could ever recall seeing—even more so than those concerned expressions he had revealed to his master earlier that were underlined with stress. Here, there was no such thing as the mask the demon hid behind daily. This was the most truthful and open expression Ciel had ever seen from him. Not scowling, mocking, blank, or even harrowingly excited—completely at ease. A canvas to emotion, truth, and lies.

'_It's true. I am doing this for selfish reasons_.'

Ciel reached out, brushing the tips of his fingers against Sebastian's cheek. Surprisingly, the demon did not stir, but merely pressed into the touch with the lightest of keens. Ciel choked back a soft gasp, marveling at how soft the skin there was. It was odd—sickeningly hilarious, even—that he had never felt nor caressed the body of one he was to sire a child with. A horrid urge to trace every dip and narrow curve of the demon's body swelled in Ciel's chest. He wanted to discover the secrets of the body before him—of lean limbs and of cat's eyes with sinewy fingers and pale, soft skin.

Though Ciel was never one to back down from a challenge he had promised himself to take on, though he refused to buckle under the pressure from what was—in simple words—terrorism… despite all this, there were darker, more intimate motives behind his decision to keep the child.

He not only wanted to know the secrets of Sebastian's body, he wanted to be inside his mind as well. It would be cheating to merely order Sebastian to speak his thoughts on the events folding out before them—and true relationships did not work that way. Honesty and trust, Ciel recalled his father saying once, was what all strong romances and friendships were built upon. But this—this whatever-it-was was composed strictly of secrets and of orders.

Everything—_every_ little unspoken thing Ciel knew of Sebastian, his thoughts, his feelings, the emotions living beyond that impenetrable expression were based on pure assumption. Something desperate curled in the earl's chest as he gently brushed his fingertips against Sebastian's chest as he came to a realization: there could be something burning below that barrier, an unobtainable emotion moving right below his hands.

Sebastian could very well love him in return.

Nearly releasing a dry sob, Ciel retracted his hand to his chest—slowly, carefully as to not awaken the demon. He shook his head again and again and the dark haze of sleep began to wash over him and it slowed into a tiny motion. It was foolish to think that. He had come to a perfectly acceptable conclusion, and it would merely serve to torment him further to question it.

But as soon as Ciel was lost to slumber once more, strong arms brought him to Sebastian's chest.

For the first time in weeks, Ciel slept deeply and dreamlessly.

* * *

"Master Ciel?"

The young earl jerked awake, instantly bolting upright. His bed was empty, save for himself, and his ears were pervaded with the sounds of Agni's urgent wrappings at the door and the sound of water sloshing in the washbowl by the window. Blearily, he blinked sleep from his eyes and fixed them on Sebastian, who was running dampened fingers through his dark hair.

"It appears we have a visitor." He sighed, gesturing calmly out the window. Ciel climbed out of bed and crossed the room to stand beside his servant and stare across the courtyard. Before the iron wrought fence was a woman of tiny stature dressed in a frivolous feathered hat, and behind her the same black lacquered buggy and squat cabby from the day he had seen the strange blonde woman in town. Ciel turned his gaze from the window, onto Sebastian, whom met his confused expression with one of utmost calm.

"She doesn't seem to be looking for trouble. I assure you that if she was, there would be a great deal more blood." Sebastian smiled sweetly as Ciel rolled his eyes and scoffed, addressing the butler on the other side of the door.

"I'm awake, Agni." He said calmly. "I'll be out in a moment, I need to dress. Please go out to escort our guest into the parlor."

"Of course." Agreed the Bengal butler with no hesitation in his voice, Ciel turned back to Sebastian, who was already laying out a simple outfit for his lord.

"Do you think she'll be willing to cooperate?" Ciel inquired as he slipped on his eye patch and allowed Sebastian to strip him of his night shirt.

"We'll just have to wait and see—though I assume you figured that she was not hostile, seeing as you invited her in, young master?" Sebastian quirked an eyebrow, to which Ciel scoffed as his trousers were fastened for him. Receiving no sign of a reply from his master, Sebastian continued with his task at hand, gently smoothing the top of Ciel's hair. The teenager nearly flinched back, forcing down the usual flush that came with the demon's newfound tender actions.

"Don't touch me so easily…" He mumbled halfheartedly, falling back onto the bed for his shoes to be slipped on. "Is there anything I should take into consideration when talking with this…?" He trailed off pointedly.

"Succubus." Sebastian supplied.

"Succubus." Ciel nodded. He was surprised how ridiculous the word sounded upon his tongue, considering the fact that he was sitting in a room with a demon who was also the father of his unborn child.

"And yes; you should make no threats towards her unless she makes any towards us or—." His eyes flicked down to Ciel's abdomen, and the younger of the two suddenly felt shameful, filled with the urge to shield his middle from view. "The most important thing would be for my lord to hear her out; it could very well lead to a favorable compromise."

Ciel nodded and climbed off of his mattress, inhaling deeply as Sebastian pushed open the bedroom doors. The hallways were oddly quiet as Ciel made his way along them with calm poise, his heart fluttering terribly behind the cage of his ribs despite his cool demeanor. Though he'd met many other politicians and noblemen far more frightening than a mere woman, he felt that the manor seemed to be crawling with something forbidding—as if all the warmth and energy was being leeched away and concentrated into one spot.

As Sebastian help open the door to the parlor, Ciel was met with the curious sound of warm laughter.

Sitting upon a plush red loveseat opposite a beaming and animated Soma was a waiflike woman who seemed to be a porcelain doll come to life. Her skin was perfectly alabaster with a healthy rosy glow below her morning-grey eyes. Chestnut curls bounced as she giggled and sipped from her teacup, her expression lighting up into a full-out beam as she spotted the earl.

"Oh, la! There you are Earl Phantomhive!" Cooed the woman as if she were addressing an old friend late to a dinner party. "I was just telling young Soma about my experiences in the French countryside. Lovely selection of tea, by the way!" She raised the little cup towards Ciel and Sebastian. "Please sit, please sit! Don't mind me, I feel awful about imposing." The woman blushed appropriately and giggled several more times.

"Mademoiselle Brun is visiting on behalf of her benefactress." Beamed Soma, who was also sporting a small cup of tea. "She said business to attend to with you, Ciel?"

"Oooh, la! No, no it's perfectly fine to call me Cosette." The succubus flipped a ringlet out of her eyes, batting ebony lashes at Ciel. "Why don't you have a seat here, young earl? It would be a pleasure to warm up to one another before we get down to business."

Ciel cast a weary look at the woman, who was patting the cushion next to her invitingly. He shot Sebastian a look out of the corner of his eye, which was met with the slightest of nods. Adjusting the lapels of his coat, Ciel sat beside the tiny woman, who hummed to herself and removed a luxurious black lace fan from her buxom.

"Is it warm in here? I'm feeling a trifle warm." She commented airily, glancing about the small parlor. Ciel shuffled and gave a murmur of agreement. In any other situation, he would've been shocked at his inability to act civilly and causally with the succubus, yet there was something so unsettling in her sincerely relaxed demeanor that set tiny warnings prickling under his skin.

Fanning herself slowly, Cosette continued to speak in her honeyed tone. "Now, as I was saying, this tea is absolutely delicious. Peppermint, if I am not mistaken?"

"The finest that London has to offer, my lady." Sebastian said smoothly, the corners of his mouth lilting into a charming smile. Ciel instantly recognized the heated look that came over the demon's eyes; he has seen it turned onto women time and time again in the duration of Sebastian's servitude. Though the demon had never outright stated doing so, Ciel had suspected that he had used this technique in order to complete the earl's bidding in quite an unorthodox manner. The thought of Sebastian bedding any woman—let alone one who had indirectly attempted to murder Ciel and his _child_—awakened a green-eyed monster within the earl that he would much rather admit to not possessing.

However, something odd was happening. While most women would melt into a heavy blush once Sebastian turned his tricks onto them, Cosette merely smiled knowingly and folded the fan upon her lap, tossing her hair with a low, melodious giggle. The same heavy looked came over her eyes as she leaned towards Sebastian, pressing her breasts together.

"How delicious it is." She said heavily, moving forward towards the coffee table and further revealing her chest as she did so. A dainty finger encircled the rim of the cup as a devious little grin curled onto her lips. "I would expect no less from a…" She paused to release another dulcet giggle. "A _butler_ of your caliber. I do wonder what other services you have to offer, rather than just preparing tea." Cosette brought the teacup to her lips, her pink tongue flashing over the edge of the cup before sipping. Ciel's hands balled into fists around the material of his trousers, an uncharacteristic need to strike the harlot beside him bubbling in the pit of his stomach. From across the room, Soma made an uncomfortable noise; Ciel's eye snapped to the prince to find him blushing deeply, golden eyes locked upon the succubus's womanly assets.

"I apologize deeply, my lady," Sebastian continued the little play, drawing his master's gaze back to him. "But I am I afraid that my other services are strictly for my master."

Those lustful eyes landed on Ciel, the butler smirking knowingly as the earl blushed and averted his gaze. Cosette continued to giggle sweetly, setting down her cup upon her saucer and folding her hands in her lap.

"Which is exactly why I am here today." She said brightly, turning towards Soma, who was still gazing at her breasts, as if transfixed. "Soma, darling, I don't mean to be a pest, but would you be a love and give us some private time?"

"U-uhm. Okay." Soma nodded. Ciel received an inkling of a feeling that the prince had no idea of what he had just agreed to—at this point, it seemed that Cosette could've told him to drink a gallon of arsenic and he would've complied.

"Go, lovie." The brunette cooed, shooing him away with a flick of her wrist. Soma leapt to attention and exited the parlor without another word; though he took care to gape back at the woman several times before finally shutting the door behind himself. Sighing daintily, Cosette turned and fixed her poisonously brilliant smile on Ciel, reaching out one of her delicate hands and setting it on his lap. Fighting back the urge to flinch or swat the woman's hand away, the earl settled for making a sour face, to which Cosette responded with yet another obnoxious giggle.

"Oh, don't be that way." She hummed, giving his leg a surreally soft pat. "I can tell you're unsettled, you really should relax."

Ciel's unpleasant expression settled into a full scowl as he pulled away from the succubus. "Why should I? You enter my estate uninvited and attempt to treat me like an old friend when you sent your pet to murder me just a day before. Why shouldn't I be unsettled?"

Cosette feigned an indignant gasp, flipping her hair and crossing her legs for emphasis. "Well! So much for attempting to put you at ease. Though I shouldn't be surprised," She pouted, flopping back into the loveseat with all the grace of a fish as he folded her arms over her chest. "Carriers are usually impervious to the charms of others of our race. It's all because of that lovely little beastie inside of you."

Ciel felt his hand twitch—though, surprisingly, not to strike the woman. Oddly enough, it had nearly flown to his abdomen; the odd action brought upon by a strange defensiveness over the term which Cosette had referred to his child as. It was quite bizarre, as Ciel had viewed it as a monster not even twelve hours earlier. But the idea of anyone else viewing it as anything other than his child was unacceptable. It was _his _monster.

He shook himself of the odd notion, eyes locking to Sebastian's deceptively calm and even eyes. Something was moving beyond those ruby orbs and, yet again, Ciel was at a loss to put a name to it. A fraction of a second later, they broke contact with Ciel's violet-blue and were locked back onto Cosette's stormy grey.

"It was the reason you came here, was it not?" The demon inquired from across the room. Cosette scoffed and made a show of flipping and toying with her thick curls.

"You really should sit down; it makes me terribly uncomfortable when people stand about." She gestured towards the long couch perpendicular to the love seat. "_Vite, vite s'il vous plaît_!"

Sebastian stared at Ciel imploringly, as if silently asking for permission. Feeling no inclination to doddle with the situation at hand, the earl gestured vaguely, nodding. Sebastian sat a moment later, eyes still locked on the succubus, undoubtedly concerned with her proximity to his master. Cosette clapped her hands together.

"Now!" She breathed. "First and foremost I would like to apologize; my benefactress and I agree that we acted rashly in the face of your situation. It was not our intention to come across as… _assertive_."

"Your pet bird nearly impaled me." Ciel said flatly. "Twice."

Cosette winced, wringing her delicate little hands nervously. "Be that as it may, we were not attempting to end your life. We decided it would be much easier for everyone to take the cambion out of the picture. You see, they're a notoriously tricky sort of breed—."

"_You _decided."Ciel cocked an eyebrow, standing to cross the room. "I apologize Mademoiselle Brun, but I believe what I do with my… _cambion_," He landed on the word awkwardly. "Should be my choice and my choice alone, rather than that of a complete stranger—however _benevolent_ their intentions were." He added facetiously as he settled down into his favorite armchair, propping up his cheek with a loose fist. "Though I hardly believe you were merely trying to take a load off of my back. The idea of the blood of your esteemed kind mixing with that of a lowly human's disgusts you, does it not?"

Cosette stared at him with wide, stormy eyes for a moment before she settled into a flustered blush (in his peripheral vision, Ciel caught a smirk flash upon Sebastian's lips for a split second), squirming like a kitten trapped on its back.

"So direct…" She mumbled to herself, playing with the frills of her fan. "You've backed me into quite a corner here, Earl. I hardly wish to sound rude, but I believe you've hit the nail on the head—it's nothing against you personally!" Cosette gasped, holding up her hands innocently. "If anything, I'm doing you a favor! If anyone else of our kind were to sniff you and your little darling out, it would be quite messy. We don't condemn your relationship in the least, merely the presence of the cambion—it was our intentions to eliminate it without the human public becoming aware of our presence. You see, many don't accept these sorts of _lasting relationships_ between a human and one of our kind—it's quite vulgar, really, the things they've done—and neither you nor the cambion would survive the ordeal."

"'_Lasting relationships_'?" Ciel repeated incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "What are you implying, Mademoiselle Brun?"

The waif blinked her saucer-like eyes several times, shifting her gaze from the silent butler, to the earl, and then back. She opened her mouth, and nothing but a small noise came out as she struggled to find the correct words. "W-well, I was merely assuming that since you've kept the child this far, and your…" She gestured at Sebastian flippantly, shaking her head. "Your… _friend_ has remained by your side without abandoning you, that you were in some sort of—you know, besides your lovely little contract that is all too apparent due to smell—."

Already exasperated due to Cosette's senseless babble, Ciel sat upright and stared her dead in the eye. "Well, you know what they say about assuming, Mademoiselle."

Cosette froze in mid-flail and proceeded to blush a deep raspberry color, slamming her hands down into her lap and glaring out of the corner of her eye at nothing in particular. "Y-you embarrass me so, Earl Phantomhive. I implore you to stop your teasing."

Ciel smirked, feeling oddly accomplished at landing such a simple insult upon the doltish woman. "If I may say so, I'm not teasing in the least, ma'am."

Cosette flushed deeper, gnawing on her lower lip. Dark claws began to extend from her fingertips, puncturing the off-white material of her skirts—she seemed close to crying. Mind laughing in uncharacteristically smug triumph, Ciel fought down his grin. "Apart from your apology, Mademoiselle, for what else do we owe the pleasure or your presence."

"Well," Cosette huffed, shaking herself slightly and attempting to sit up as tall as possible. The stiffness of her posture combined with her wide, wobbling grey eyes gave her the appearance of an overgrown child who had just been scolded by an exasperated parent. "I was here to present our terms."

"Terms?" Sebastian finally spoke from across the room, arching an eyebrow. "And, pray tell Mademoiselle, what would these terms be?"

Sniffing, Cosette pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, dabbing softly at the corners of her eyes. "My benefactress and I agreed that you two have exactly two weeks from today—that's November the fifteenth, dear heart—" She added with another snuffle, "Two weeks from today to come upon a decision. The first: you can personally eliminate the cambion and we will leave you two be as long as you promise that _it will not happen again_."

Ciel stared as Cosette's expression hardened into something nearly frightening as she folded away her handkerchief. The earl met her slate grey expression with unblinking eyes, pulling himself up to his full height. "And the second option?"

"My benefactress as well as myself and my pet will personally eliminate both you and the cambion." Cosette said evenly, pushing off of the loveseat. "No exceptions. We do _not_ allow such vile spawn to taint our race, _good Earl_." She added in a near snarl. Ciel raised an eyebrow, vaguely impressed by her abrupt shift in demeanor. Cosette stood before him, glaring down at the earl with suddenly cold eyes. "I assure you that if you send anyone to attack myself, my benefactress, or my _darling_ little harpy that the parlay will _end_. It won't be only your life on the line, my _dear_." Suddenly, the warm smile was back on her face as she ran a hand through her long tresses. "Your friend Soma is purely human, is he not? And I'm fairly certain you have a lovely little army of fragile human beings back at your larger estate, correct?"

With a bright smile, Cosette turned to gather a long fur stole and her extravagant hat from the coat hanger, only to be stopped by Sebastian, who had appeared beside her in the blink of an eye. "Allow me, Mademoiselle." He smiled, draping the stole around Cosette's shoulders. Ciel watched, still in a numb state of shock from the brunette's antics. "Master, I'll show Mademoiselle Brun out to her coach." he stated, before turning to the slight woman. "If you'd follow me?"

The demon pulled open the door, gesturing with a gloved hand. Cosette smiled and wrapped herself around his extended arm. "Finally, a _true_ gentlemen!" She gasped pleasantly. "I still have no idea why someone such as _you_ would stoop to an agreement such as _this_—."

Cosette was promptly silenced as Sebastian shut the door behind them, casting a wary glance over his shoulder at Ciel. Immediately, the earl took to his feet and rushed to the window, waiting for butler and lady to appear in the front gardens. His heart was racing a mile a minute as he attempted to process the woman's words and behavior. If the idiotic Cosette was able to control the harpy that had nearly managed to kill Ciel, then there may have been value behind her threat upon the lives of those humans close to him—especially considering that Sebastian would have to leave to strike against them, leaving not only the earl vulnerable, but his servants and cohorts as well; and while Agni was considerably strong, Ciel sincerely doubted that he stood a change against two ancient and powerful succubi and their pet.

Suddenly, Sebastian and Cosette had emerged from the front door and were making their way through the gardens towards the front gate. Cosette was smiling up at Sebastian, sidling up closer and closer until their sides were pressed intimately together. Ciel felt a sudden lurch of jealousy, recalling their previous flirtations as he stared at the woman's back. Cosette rolled onto the tips of her toes, her ridiculous hat all but obscuring Sebastian's face as she reached up a tiny porcelain hand to caress his cheek, their faces dangerously close. Ciel's hands closed upon the windowsill, scraping up bits of paint. The two turned again, Cosette trailing her hands down Sebastian's chest as she spoke, cocking her head to one side with a bemused smirk. Suddenly, the amusement drained from her face and she snarled, giving the butler a great shove before she turned on her heel and stormed to her buggy.

Confused, Ciel watched as Sebastian composed himself and headed back up the pathway. His eyes met Ciel's through the window and the earl instantly glanced away, starting towards the parlor doors.

"What did she say?" He asked, knowing that the demon would hear him, regardless of the barrier of the door, which was just now swinging open.

"Nothing of value." The demon sighed. "The only thing that comes out of that woman's mouth is useless drabble. She was under the impression she would be able to make some sort of backwards deal with me in order to secure both your life and the child's."

Ciel's heart caught in his throat, images of the harlot pressed up against Sebastian, his long fingers entwined in her hair flashed through his mind. "And… what did you say?"

"I refused, of course." Sebastian replied, arching an eyebrow. "Unless my lord would—."

"No." Ciel responded coldly, his eyes locking with the patterns on the tile floor. "We won't succumb to their frivolous _deals_. Absolutely not. Do you understand?"

Sebastian grinned, dropping to one knee, as if on his master's unspoken command. "Yes, my lord." He recited. "I shall do everything in my power to fulfill your wishes concerning this situation, whatever they may be."

"Good." Ciel responded as Sebastian took to his feet once more. The earl turned to head back up the stairwell, taking a deep breath as he did. However, he was stopped by a soft hand on his shoulder.

"And what might those wishes be, my lord?"

Ciel froze.

'_I am doing this for selfish reasons_.'

"I'll keep it."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Hey guys, big news! **My beta reader CheshireCity has agreed to do a companion fic to Broken Pieces from Sebastian's POV!** No idea when that will start coming out, but I'm really excited to see what she has in store. She's an amazing author, and will most definitely not let you guys down. **Her fic will be called "Together Again"**

In other less awesome news, I'm for the fat break between chapters. I've been really, really busy lately with school and graduation and our drama class's performance (for example, I was at the theater for seven and a half hours yesterday I passed out soon after dinner). As soon as I start summer break, though, you should expect some pretty regular updates.

Story wise, I know this was a talk-y chapter. I don't like giving you just talk-y and think-y chapters, but it's a necessary evil to accomplish in order to develop the story properly. The next chapters will definitely make up for that, I promise!

Also, I suppose since we've gotten this far, I'm going to give you the meanings of the chapter titles thus far! BECAUSE I'M JUST THAT NICE 8D

Dictamnus – White Dittany – Fire

Mentha Pipierta – Peppermint – Warmth of Feeling; also known as the world's oldest medicine

Nelumbo – Lotus – Estranged love

Bellis Perennis – Wild Daisy – "Dost thou love me?"

Fumaria—Fumitory – Gall


	6. Convallaria Maialis

"**Broken Pieces"**

**Chapter Six**

**Convallaria Maialis**

"_The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see_

_The wantonest singing birds,_

_Are lips—and all they melody_

_Of lip-begotten words—_

_Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrined_

_Then desolately fall,_

_O God! On my funeral mind_

_Like starlight on a pall—_

_The heart—_thy_ heart!—I wake and sigh,_

_And sleep to dream till day_

_Of the truth that gold can never buy—_

_Of the baubles that it may."_

Edgar Allan Poe (To _—_)

A gloveless hand graced the nape of Ciel's neck, slid onto his shoulder, and he wanted him.

For the barest of moments, that electricity danced upon his skin, relishing in the sensation of bare flesh on bare flesh before it was gone, and hot water was washing away the suds that had gathered on Ciel's skin.

This was torture, in its purest, most simple form. Mental torture. Ciel has been branded alive, stabbed, raped and bruised and yet he still felt the overwhelming ache in his head and in his heart that came along with torment, even when the hands upon him now were gentle. Too gentle for one so selfish.

No words had been spoken between them as soon as Ciel had voiced his decision. Sebastian was wise enough to know that questions would ultimately unleash a can of worms upon them that neither would have been able to handle. It was wryly comical to think of the demon not knowing how to cope with something; but all the humor was lost in the young earl's fluttering mind. There were only two things there: how much he wanted to feel Sebastian's hands over his body and how terrible he was.

Selfish.

His body working of its own accord, Ciel allowed his butler to nearly scoop him from the bath tub, enveloping him in plush towels—around his body, over his head and hands, pressing into slight crevices that elicited sparks of passion that they should not have, sparks that died away when they became lost on their journey to his numb mind.

Ciel felt Sebastian dry him with an unfeeling body and watched the butler's blasé expression with unseeing eyes as he was dressed. Something was said to unhearing ears, and he may have agreed with it. There was a brief, unimportant exchange and Ciel found himself sitting on the heavy comforters of his bed and Sebastian was gone from the room.

Slowly, slowly the earl raised his eyes to the chest of draws sitting opposite his mattress—hollow eyes stared back from the mirror set above the dresser. One feint lilac, emblazoned with the mark of the beast, the other a deep violet-blue. Both stared back imploringly, as if challenging himself to do something. To say something. To think_ something _rather than the endless amounts of self loathing spiraling in his mind.

Suddenly, Ciel's eyes snapped away from themselves as he caught a feint form in his peripheral vision. A slight, forgotten mass upon the surface of the chest of drawers. Mind following back into his body with sudden force, Ciel climbed off of his mattress and crossed the small distance between his bed and the chest of draws, fingers closing numbly around the letter opener in its oddly soft leather casing. He recalled pocketing the thing after exiting Undertaker's shop, but did not recall setting it there later that evening where it had apparently rested for the past fortnight.

It was small, yet heavy in his grasp as he extracted it from the tiny sheath, gracelessly falling back down upon his plush duvet. It was an unassuming thing with a worn wooden handle and a long, wicked blade that was surprisingly sharp for the amount of times that Undertaker had most likely used it over the years.

Ciel softly cursed himself as he turned the parcel in his hands, wondering how he could have been so blind to let the underlying meanings of the embalmer's loaded words fly right past him. It was disgusting, really. He had figured that there was some sort of underlying conversation between the funeral director and the butler, but had never chosen to pursue the words beneath their words. How could he have known that the strange man had seen right through him the second he stepped into the shop?

'_You'll know what to do_.'

His hand tightened around the hilt of the letter opener as the ghosts of the words appeared in his mind with sudden clarity, sending chills down the length of his arm. He had disregarded Undertaker's strange words as the man's usual cryptic and nearly-meaningless rambling; but considering the fact that he had most definitely _known_ (a furious blush appeared on Ciel's face at the thought of Undertaker's awareness of his current state), it had been a loaded statement. He couldn't have possibly meant—

Ciel's gaze landed on the unassuming letter opener, and a feeling of cold, inky dread began to pool in his stomach.

He considered how easy it would be to turn the hilt away from him and rest the shining tip against his lower abdomen. He thought of the simple motion of pulling the letter opener away from himself and driving it into his core moments later. It would only take an instant. And the flash of pain would be nothing compared to death, to the torture he had endured all those years ago and the torture his mind was enflamed with in that instant. He wondered what Sebastian would say to bloodstained sheets and hollow eyes.

He pressed the tip of the letter opener to his abdomen, its icy caress shining through the flimsy material of his night shirt. His arms felt like lead, his heart like a stone come alive, and his head was full of misty horror and doubt. How easy it _would_ be…

If only there wasn't another life within him.

It was stupid. One could barely call it a life—it was clearly considered an abomination due to the cocktail of its blood and its nest within a _male_—and it was such a _small_ life too. Ciel shuttered. The notion of holding something so tiny within him was disgustingly _tender_.

He vaguely remembered his aunt from before her accident, one of the earliest memories that he could recall. He recalled feeling the fluttering kicks on his palms as he rested his hands on Auntie Angie's distended middle.

"That's your cousin, Ciel." His mother said sweetly, brushing hair out of his enthralled eyes.

"Why is my cousin in Auntie's belly?" He inquired, fixing his gaze onto his mother's soft eyes not unlike his own. The red-haired woman giggled and kissed the child's brow.

"Because your baby cousin needs to grow for awhile before it can be born. It's very tiny right now, and I need to protect it and let it grow inside of me until it's ready." She explained. "That's a mother's responsibility; even after her baby is born."

"Is that what my momma did for me?" The small boy inquired, beaming up at his mother—despite the question, he already knew the answer.

"Of course." She said, sweeping down upon him to place the softest of kisses upon his brow.

Ciel dropped the letter opener into his lap, numbly considering its dead weight there. It was ridiculous how he continued to debate with himself over the fate of the child when the sensible option was painfully clear. Avoid the threat of the succubi and their pet and the potential of his sudden and painful end, no longer allow the thing within him to warp his mind and body even further—

He grabbed the hilt, pressing the letter opener back up against his flesh.

End this building insanity, and the sickness and the long nights that had become sleepless save for the twisting and tormenting dreams, and the thoughts and the feelings and the notion that Sebastian tender caress and gentle gazes were only brought upon by—

Before he realized what he had done, the earl had flung the blade away from him, causing it to crash into the mirror above his dresser. A thin fracture broke across it immediately, the knife falling to its base with a metallic clatter. Ciel threw the sheath to the floor and tangled his fingers in his hair, nearly snarling at the tears he fought to quell. Disgusting. Useless. Selfish. _Stupid_. Stupid to think he could've possibly ended it all so easily. Stupid to believe that the decision would not lurk behind him with its icy fingers upon his shoulders. Stupid to even consider that Sebastian's actions could ever be stemmed from love rather than a concern for his kin.

However, there was a tiny inkling of a feeling rising from the black pool within him; a question as to whether those looks and touches and brief electric sparks would come to an abrupt end if Ciel was to— or if he went through with the whole ordeal. As soon as carrier and child were separate, then those brief moments that made it seem that Sebastian loved Ciel in return would fade into nonexistence. The product of their loveless union would be nothing but a child a child; a cold reminder to Ciel as to what he would never have. To think that the presence of a child he would eventually give birth to—he shuttered—would do nothing to continue—

No. Keeping the child and reveling in this bliss of faux love only to have things return to the way they were _before _once it was born—

It would be far worse than destroying the child and losing all those flickering feelings in a brief moment.

And that simply would not do

But Ciel Phantomhive was never one to back down from a decision he had made, and what he feared would most certainly come to pass. A trembling palm fell over his marked eye, his heart and body coming to a decision before his mind was allowed the chance to process the situation. He would not allow himself to destroy his own heart any further. He would use this lust and this bliss and these _lies _as a balm to soothe his aching heart—and if it killed him all over again, then so be it. A brief brush in a farce with the one he could never truly have was a sad salve for those years that were certain to come.

"Sebastian." He said again in a voice so tremulous that he was uncertain if it was his.

The demon appeared again from whatever task he had been busying himself with. Once more he folded himself into a neat bow and Ciel licked his lips, clutching at the bed sheets in his hands desperately. It was so odd; his actions were distinct foils of those before he had asked this of Sebastian the first time. Where had that calm, nearly disinterested earl gone?

"I want to have sex with you."

He was crumpled beneath the prospect of something as simple and common and horribly heartbreaking as unrequited love.

Sebastian was staring at him. Ciel stared back, feeling color pool upon his pale cheeks as he squirmed in place. Once more, he felt as if he were just realizing that Sebastian was in the room. There was a glass wall between them and it could only be felt by the hands of the heart. It was awful and twisted and he felt small and pitiful for the first time since he had been thrown into a cage and then up against a bloodied slab.

His heart was doing a horrible little dance against his ribs.

Sebastian was still staring at him, expression as unreadable as ever. It felt like the demon was committing an awful crime for merely sitting there and staring at Ciel whilst the earl's insides squirmed with horror at the thought of rejection. Trembling violently upon the edge of screaming and tears, Ciel was jerked from the emotions throbbing within his chest and head as Sebastian spoke:

"If…" He began very slowly, claret eyes dropping down to regard the dull patterns on the bed skirt. It was now Ciel's turn to stare as Sebastian slowly raised his hand and set the tips of his fingers—with utmost gentleness—upon his master's knee. There was something heavy about his movements that Ciel had never seen before, and it nearly threw him into a perplexed daze before the demon licked his lips and began once more. "If that is what my lord wishes."

And for some inexplicable reason, it killed him.

Ciel felt numb as the words pressed on his ears. The wicked longing lanced through his chest, striking his heart and causing thick blood to sluggishly march through his veins as he raised his eyes to Sebastian's.

"I…" The earl began. '_If that is what my lord wishes_.' Ciel shook his head and licked suddenly parched lips as he released a tiny, humorless laugh. "I do."

"Then—." Sebastian began to unfold himself from that God-awful kneeling position that made him seem so much smaller than he actually was, but was immediately frozen by the hand Ciel held up—like a man whose blood had turned to stone. The earl was bowing his head, a sheet of blue-grey hair obscuring his eyes, obscuring himself and his shame from Sebastian.

"But." Ciel began. He felt dead. This mind added wryly that this was only natural seeing as Sebastian had killed him. "But there's a reason I wish it."

Silence. Ciel did not need to look to see that Sebastian had not even arched an eyebrow. They were two stone people trapped there in that sepulcher-like bedchamber.

"I love you."

It was a coarse whisper. An ashamed admission, rather than the blessedly breathless declaration Ciel wished that it would have—that it _could_ have— been. His eyes felt _so_ heavy as he raised them just a bit. "I wanted you to know," He added, as if he were telling Sebastian that he had just left the bath water running. "That I wanted you to love me in return. And that," He choked back a little sob, heart finally coming back to life with the barest of flutters. "Is why I asked. Please leave."

There was a brief moment between the time Sebastian was there by his side with the warm tips of his fingers on his knee and the time that the butler was gone for a room. Ciel could not recall what had happened between the moment he dismissed his servant from his room and the instant that the door closed and he doubled over with sobs so powerful that no noise escaped him— just awful pressure on the roof of his mouth as he gasped for air and wrapped his hands around his abdomen, scorching tears racing down his cheeks. He cried with his whole body, shoulders trembling, legs curling and tensing, head throbbing; poured his heart into those tears and over his face as he cried without shame of crying, but for shame of allowing himself to be brought so low by something as trivial as love. And he shook violently and gasped and coughed and wished. He wished Sebastian would come back to him as he fisted his hair in his hands and finally allowed the tiny sobs to come. He wanted to be held and caressed in that way he _knew_ wasn't real.

But it could never dull the horrible, empty ache within him. The knowledge that Sebastian would only comply to these orders because they were just that—orders.

'_If that is what my lord wishes_.'

Was the hesitation born of exasperation of being used once more, or merely out of guilt? But it did not speak of genuine love. At that thought, Ciel gasped into his palms, disgusted at the sounds escaping his mouth but too enraptured in destroying himself to stop. Then finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Ciel curled into his pillows on top of his sheets and trembled in the night of approaching winter.

* * *

Bare feet moved heel-to-toe, slowly, steadily upon the knobby grey branch. Wavering in place, Ciel found himself traveling to the end of the tree's limb, staring down at the rushing creek below him, watching fragments of ice and snow break away from its banks and sweep themselves away in the hurried eddies.

Lowering himself to the branch, the earl allowed handful after handful of flowers to fall from his pockets into his lap, a myriad of softly colored petals forming an odd little mural upon him. His eye shifted from the pastel flowers to the dead-grey branch below him and he began to twist them into tiny chains, hooking one end around a protrusion on the bare branch and winding the coronet around the circumference of the tree in a precise little ring—and again. Inching further and further down the branch until it strained under his meager weight.

When the branch did finally break and Ciel was consumed in the suddenly tormented rush of the creek, he found that he didn't mind one bit. Ice seeped into his body as he gladly inhaled the freezing water, swallowing it, savoring the numbness that he consumed and allowing it to devour him in turn. Blurred colors rushing through his vision as the flowers were swept away. Unfeeling. Drowned. It was twisted and delightful as he felt his mind swell with water and his fingers go numb.

But Muddy Death did not come. Something warm brushed against his cheek—his flesh so listless that it was nearly unfeeling—and his eyes flickered open. Someone was in the water with him, pulling him to the surface. Though it pained him to overcome the ice, the strain of forcing death away and off of his chest, he felt as if this was the way it was _supposed_ to be. Beating his legs against the current as strong arms pried him away from the depths of the cold water, only to break through the surface seconds later with a gasp of the most rewarding, crisp air that he had ever tasted, pressing into the delighting sensation of the hands that had saved him.

* * *

And when Ciel awoke with a start, those hands were not gone. Wide-eyed he stared at Sebastian, felt one arm wrapped around him protectively, the warm hum of his body through the flimsy confines of their clothing, the press of the stiff fabric of his slacks against the earl's bare legs. One hand splayed over the small of Ciel's back, pulling him closer. His heart caught in his throat as the demon stoked his cheek with the soft back of his hand, turning to bush delightfully warm fingertips over his frozen cheek.

Though the intimate contact—the feeling of being so _close_ to Sebastian despite the thin glass layer that remained between them—sent tiny, wonderful thrills racing over his skin and into his heart, the butler's expression would've been worth every caress and brush of flesh on flesh. His eyes were half-lidded—and so damn _close_—and weighty with some emotion that Ciel would not be able to place quite yet. There was nothing but sincere heaviness and the touch of his hand and the warmth it elicited from Ciel's body and heart. For a moment, he wondered if he was still dreaming, or had merely gone mad and was now seeing some sort of image conjured up by his weathered mind.

Slowly, slowly like moving through water, Ciel raised his own hand, knowing full well how frigid it would be against the demon's heated flesh. But Sebastian did not flinch, nor shy away from the frozen caress, sweeping a thumb across the rise of his master's cheeks as Ciel felt his face.

"Are you really here?" He asked softly, a giddy lilt to his voice. Sebastian smiled, so soft and sincere that Ciel believed he would melt right then and there. "I thought—."

"You never clarified how long I was banned from your room, master. I left, and now I have returned." Came the simple explanation. Ciel nodded, head weighed down by the dozens of thoughts and hopes that never quite seemed to register. There was only the heat of Sebastian and the warming in his core and the fact that the demon had returned to his side by his own free will.

And that—

_That_

'_Could this be real_?' He nearly whispered.

His own lids becoming heavy, Ciel learned forward imploringly, shivering in delight as Sebastian ran his bare fingers through his grey tresses, cupping the base of his head—

It was like moving through water all over again. Slow and deliberate on either one of their parts as they pressed up against that barrier between them and challenged it.

They met halfway.

Sebastian's lips were amazing, experienced as they caught Ciel's for several moments, moving up against them with a gentle urgency. Heat shot throughout the earl's body as he reveled in the feeling, flushing as he realized he was _kissing Sebastian_. The thought alone was a thousand times better than he had expected, magnified by the feelings of intimacy and unspoken words between them. But words would come later, for now—

The brush of Sebastian's tongue against the seam of his lips sent electricity racing throughout Ciel's body—the same electricity that had been building between them, brushing against their flesh time and time again had entered them and was finally ignited within their kiss. Hungrily, Ciel parted his lips and allowed the demon in. His tongue was heavy and warm—but fleeting and soft as it brushed against Ciel's own and traced the patterns of his teeth. Ciel moaned into the kiss, wanton and unguarded as he surged up against Sebastian, grasping the lapels of the coat with fervor, as if he were afraid of the demon disappearing underneath his touch. He felt Sebastian laugh softly against him, sliding his hand from his hair and down the sensitive line of his jaw. It was a tiny touch, just a ghostly sweep down his cheek, but altogether it was too much.

"Master, was what you said true?"

"Was what?" Ciel asked sleepily, stroking Sebastian's cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Do you love me?"

Ciel raised his eyes to meet that deep wine, soft and sincere. He should've been offended by his demon questioning his words, but only found something so truly open and honestly curious that he could not help but reply:

"Yes. I love you."

Shocked, Ciel found that Sebastian's lips were on his again, faster than he could think. With a gentle noise, the demon pulled away and dropped those lips to Ciel's ear.

"I love you, too, Ciel."

The wonderful thrill in his chest was so overwhelming that Ciel could not help but pull Sebastian into yet another kiss, taking a great handful of the demon's hair and pressing them together so tightly that it was strange to even consider that barrier that had once been between them.

The kisses turned to soft caresses and Ciel found himself melting into his lover's embrace, and that night, Sebastian did not leave him.

* * *

Lazy grey morning light poured through the gossamer scrim usually nestled between the window and curtain. Ciel shifted, splaying his arms out over the musky-scented pillows below him and blinking open his eyes. Sebastian was stroking his side gently, and a tiny smile made its way onto Ciel's lips as he turned into the demon's chest and was met with a kiss.

"Good morning." He all but hummed, mouth stretching into a yawn. Sebastian chuckled softly, nuzzling Ciel's cheek.

"Good morning, darling." He purred affectionately, forcing a deep rouge color to rise to Ciel's cheeks at the sound of the newfound pet-name.

"You're terrible." The teen muttered, averting his eyes, even as he clung to Sebastian's chest. The demon laughed again and moved his long, warm fingers over Ciel's abdomen, kissing the apple of his cheek; Ciel nearly flinched, his breath hitching at the unfamiliar touch. His thumb swept over Ciel's navel and he sighed in a way that the earl _felt_—Sebastian was content.

With trembling fingers, Ciel rested his hand over Sebastian's and held it there, staring at the demon in a nearly imploring way, though he didn't have a clue what he expected. They remained there for what seemed like an eternity, gazes locked and their hands held over that tiny flame they had kindled in unison.

"I thought—." Ciel began, all but expected Sebastian to interrupt him, saying he already knew. But the demon was dumb, staring at him with patient claret. "I nearly killed it." He admitted, heart wrenching terribly as Sebastian averted his eyes slowly. "I thought it would be easier. I didn't want—I _don't'_ want—."

"You made your decision." Sebastian interrupted gently, wrapping himself around Ciel and lightly kissing his temple. "And I will honor that choice as your servant and as your—." He froze, looking to Ciel for confirmation. The earl looked back, just as lost on a proper word. Ciel did not know what he considered Sebastian to be to him, but they were in love, and that was all that mattered.

"As _yours_." Sebastian settled on, grasping Ciel's spare hand in his and kissing his finger tips once filled with lead and dread. "I will not let harm come to you or our child."

_Our _child. Not _the_ child, _our_ child. Ciel felt a sudden rush of gratitude and adoration, a smile breaking over his usually grim features. Sebastian returned his smile with a small grin of his own and they were kissing again, the heavy sheets entangling them further and further until Ciel felt that he was in danger of never escaping.

"Now then," Sebastian said suddenly, and those fears were released as he scooped Ciel into his arms, promptly lifting the earl out of the bed, bringing several of the sheets along with him. The morning light spilled over them. "Let's clean up, shall we?"

Ciel nodded, averting his eyes towards the cracked mirror as he was carried into the bathroom. The fear and uncertainty swelled back into his heart as he spotted the abandoned paper knife laying innocently below the mirror, the fracture sending its reflection back to the young earl several times. His broke his gaze away from the thing as Sebastian settled him down upon the counter, smirking deviously as Ciel hissed from the contact of cold marble. The demon emitted an aroused hum, brushing his palm against Ciel's cheek while the youth pressed into his touch in a needy fashion. He released a deep laugh, lowering his lips to his lover's ear.

"Later." He promised huskily, and he set about drawing a bath, the touch of his fingers leaving heated trails in their wake. Ciel folded his arms around himself, watching in silence as the butler went about his usual feat of drawing a hot bath in the dead of winter. However, Ciel seemed to stare right past his lover and back into the bed chamber where the knife waited, cold and quiet.

"Sebastian." Ciel finally spoke, causing Sebastian to freeze in his ministrations, a hand full of bath salts poised over the tub as the demon rose an elegant eyebrow. "Why do they want the baby dead?"

"I thought you understood it was a matter of blood purity, my lord?"

"I do. However, I doubt that they would go to such great lengths to ensure something as simple as blood purity."

"You would be correct, my lord. Blood purity is an excuse. Most importantly, it is a power struggle."

"Power struggle?"

"Usually succubi and incubi alike will let the birth of a cambion go. Despite the fact that they are notorious of their wild and violent tendencies. Though one would think that human blood would dilute this, it actually possesses the opposite effect: the conflict of human and incubus or succubus blood makes the cambion unstable both mentally and physically—much like the snatchers. However, they do possess the means to be eloquent and refined, capable of functioning as a full incubus until they _snap_—."

"So this means…?"

"No."

"I, myself, am only half incubus."

"Half?"

"Yes. Half incubus and half cat demon. The mixture of a demon with an animal familiar with an incubi or succubi is often said to be one of the most powerful beings. I doubt that there's ever been a case of that mixing with human blood. So, naturally, they're afraid of the product of our union. Incubi and succubi are proud creatures and choose to eliminate anything more powerful than themselves rather than accept its existence humbly—the reason that there are very few hybrids with incubi and succubi like myself."


	7. Lupinus Perennis

"**Broken Pieces"**

**Chapter Seven**

**Lupinus Perennis**

"_You want it all, but the world won't give it up _

_Your eyes have closed, but you have got to go on _

_Ever since I've come, you have been whole _

_I tell you though: there's nothing left but this_."

Yuya Matsushita (Beyond)

Leona Fitzpatrick stared hard at her reflection.

Cold green leered back.

Flaxen hair, waved and perfect, fell down her broad shoulders and curled upon the delicately carved wood of her vanity. Resting her elbows amidst her tresses and chin upon bridged fingers, Leona tipped her head to one side.

'_Tomorrow, then_.'

A final warning before she snuffed them out like a tiny flame. Something she could pinch between her thumb and finger and make no more—

A small movement caught Leona's eye as the scent of cocoa and rotting meat flowed into her dressing room. Reflected in the three panes of the vanity was Cosette, the brunette's curls falling limp around her round face as she pouted pointedly at the wall, leaning against the doorframe. Beyond her, the hulking silhouette of the harpy lurked, milky red orbs flashing as it gnawed away at the flesh of what had once been an intact rabbit.

"Why do you even care so much, Leona?" Cosette inquired, wrinkling her nose slightly. "He's not—_they're _not worth it." She corrected herself quickly, sliding her cold eyes onto the woman settled on the plush bench.

"Why do you?" The blonde retorted airily, tracing the grooves in the lightly colored wood with her small claw. Cosette seized up, flushing bright red and folding her arms over her chest defensively as she began to struggle for words. "Is it because you've never been refused before, Cosette?" A soft smile tilted onto Leona's lips as she gazed up at Cosette. The smaller woman was standing with her feet and shoulders squared, hair sliding over her frail face as she bowed her head. "Poor baby. Are you losing your touch?"

"I AM NOT!" Cosette all but screamed, red seeping into her irises as her head snapped up with a painful _crack_. The avian beside her began to shriek loudly at its master's distress, ruffling its massive wings and dropping its bloody prey into the floor with an awful _flop_. "I _refuse_ to accept that, Leona." She snarled, much softer. Her nails bit into her fists as she stared hard at the other woman, spilling bits of blood on the snowy white carpet alongside the rabbit's gnarled flesh.

"I've just…" Cosette paused, relaxing her hands as she wrapped one arm around the snatcher, burying her face in a downy shoulder. Leona sneered, rolling her eyes at the brunette's concealed face. "I've never been treated that way before, Leona. No one has ever—."

With a sigh, Leona pushed away from the vanity and wrapped her arms around her friend, pulling Cosette away from the harpy and resting her face on her breast. Long fingers became entwined in the younger succubus' tresses as Leona pressed a chaste kiss to Cosette's temple. "There now." She soothed, attempting to smash down all signs of exasperation. "He's obviously deranged, Cosette—seeing a human male through with such a disgusting task."

Cosette snuffled loudly into her supposed friend's breast, raising tearstained eyes to meet frozen emerald. "R-really?"

"Really." Leona smiled, brushing away a loose curl sticking to her damp cheeks. "And deranged to turn down such a pretty thing such as you."

Joy broke out over Cosette's distraught face and she threw herself into Leona's arms, causing the taller woman to falter back. Fighting a scoff, Leona laughed softly as Cosette began to chatter away:

"Thank you so much Leona! La, I feel like I've gotten my second wind!" She pulled away, wiping at her still-pink cheeks with the backs of her hands, much like a child would; how quickly she seemed to recover after a simple compliment. Suddenly, a cruel smile broke over Cosette's face as she curled her hands to her chest. "So which one would you like?"

Leona threw back her head and laughed softly. "Darling, you always know how to bounce right back!"

Cosette grinned toothily at Leona, flipping her hair with a bit more exuberance for someone who had apparently been so distraught just a few moments earlier. "Indeed I do! Now! Tell me, tell me Leona! Which one do you want?"

"I think I'll leave disposing the abomination to you, lovie." Leona purred, pulling a white night robe from one of the thick rows of clothing lining her closet. "It's only fair for you to do so; I think offing that blood traitor's kin will twist his unfeeling heart more than I ever could." She stared down at her claws wistfully. "Not that I wouldn't try."

* * *

"Do you love Sebastian?"

Ciel choked on his rose tea, nearly spitting the bitter brew over his Bavarian teacup. Red-faced and sputtering, he adjusted the light blanket over his lap and proceeded to glower into the gardens, fighting down a nervous twitch of his lip. "What would make you say that, Soma?"

The Bengal prince shrugged, draping his own blanket over his shoulders and folding his legs below himself. Ciel scoffed lightly at the behavior, fighting to find a new subject. "What makes you sit like that, anyway? Aren't you aware your chair will tip over—?"

"You didn't answer my question." The dark-haired boy pressed, staring straight ahead at the earl with even topaz eyes. Ciel flinched, resisting the urge to burry himself beneath the deep red blanket and never resurface. Over the course of the past several fortnights, Ciel had come to loathe the flushing embarrassment that seemed to follow his connection to Sebastian and quickly cursed the hormones for what seemed like the umpteenth time at least that day alone.

"Like I said, why would you ask that?" He deflected the answer sloppily, his blush still horridly apparent. Soma propped his arm up on the chair, resting his chin upon his hand as a bemused grin split his face.

"Oh come off it!" He laughed, shaking his head. "I've _seen_ the way you look at him, Ciel."

Glaring into the surface of the tea, Ciel scoffed and took a quick sip, setting it upon the saucer and helping himself to a tart. "And in which way is that, may I ask?" He inquired, eye flicking up to meet Soma's bemused gaze—however, his smirk was beginning to fade into something much softer as he folded his hands upon his feet.

"Like you're genuinely in love with him." Soma uttered softly. Quickly, Ciel averted his gaze back into the sea of vibrant violet-blue overtaking the garden. Grin spreading once more, Soma leaned forward as Ciel attempted to hide his flustered face in his teacup once more. "Don't deny it!" He taunted jovially. "I can see it in your face! You love him."

Ciel shuffled, having neither the heart nor the composure to deny the fact as vehemently as he usually would have. Soma laughed softly, reaching over the white wicker table between them to pluck up several tarts. The chilled wind rustled the earl's hair, causing it to fall over his visible eye and he shivered, plucking up his lap blanket and pulling it higher upon his torso. Below the confines of the thick linen, his hand sought out the swell upon his abdomen, a strange sense of keeping himself warm overpowering him for a fleeting moment before it was gone.

"How's the sex, then?"

Ciel nearly tumbled from his seat, the string of garbled noises he proceeded to issue being some of the most intelligent he had ever uttered. Soma smiled at him placidly as if he had merely inquired about the weather, calmly awaiting his reply. When Ciel showed no signs of being able to form a coherent sentence, the prince took it upon himself to elaborate.

"I mean, it's pretty obvious you've slept together," He mused, propping his chin up once more and glancing towards the overcast sky in thought. "Given the whole baby thing and those folks trying to kill you and whatnot… I'm not trying to convince you of being… uhm." He paused to consider his words, squinting up at the clouds. "_Immoral_ or whatever. Plus you're kind of loud at ni—."

"_That,_" The earl hissed through gritted teeth, his face now flushed a shade of red previously unknown to man. "Is my private life. You'd do well not to question it, Soma—remember that I _am_ your employer."

"Pah." Soma grinned his toothy grin and waved away the threat like a pesky fly. "You're also my best friend. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you threw me out and you _know_ it." He accented his argument with a flash of pink tongue. Ciel scoffed and reached forward to gather up his cup and saucer.

"Are you so sure of that?" He countered smoothly, grinning into the tea. "Because I most certainly could try."

"You're just embarrassed 'cause you're noisy in bed." Taunted the Indian, picking up one of the tarts and chucking it at the earl's head. Ciel blinked several times, processing his friend's actions and words before his free hand twitched towards the tarts as well—

Only to be lightly caught by a gloved hand. The grey-tressed youth blinked, taken aback, and met with bemused meritage eyes. Sebastian lightly replaced his lord's hand upon his saucer. "Now you weren't about to begin throwing food like a child now, were you master?"

Ciel scowled, feeling the need to playfully swat the demon across the cheek but settled for scoffing lightly and turning his attention to the garden for a third time as Sebastian began to restock the tea tray with shortcake and scones. Soma sniggered under his breath, apparently savoring the small victory before following his friend's gaze to the flowers as well.

"That's a really impressive garden you've planted!" He commented wistfully. "Agni usually plants winter roses this time of year, but I really like the change! The purple colors are really very nice." He smiled, pushing himself from his seat and crossing over to a low, spindly -branched plant jutting from the soil. "Though… this seems oddly out of place. Does it have a name?"

"Amethyst witch hazel," Sebastian explained, a hint of pride evident in his falsely humble demeanor. "The unique light purple color is achieved through a cross of two other strains of the plant. It blooms well in colder weather such as this and produces a unique spiced aroma."

'_Show off_.' Ciel fought back the urge to comment, rolling his eyes and taking a quick sip of tea. Within the garden, Soma nodded and gestured towards the rich, thick-leaved blooms at the base of the witch hazel accented by slender purples.

"And these two?" He pressed, genuine interest shining in his expression. Sebastian smiled.

"A Mediterranean breed of cyclamen—the deep pink offsets the witch hazel well, don't you think?"

"Uhn. But what about these?" Soma jabbed an impatient finger at the thin, tall flowers blooming between the cyclamen glowing warm purple against the other plants. Sebastian's smile seemed to curl into something much deeper, the pride in his eyes mixed with something heavy as he turned his gaze upon Ciel, who stared up with an inquiring arch of his brow.

"Those would be wild lupine, indigenous to the east coast of North America." Continued the dark-tressed man. "A difficult flower to breed here, considering it usually flourishes in warm, humid weather."

"Wuaah!" Soma started, eyes growing wide as he transfixed them upon the flowers. "And they grow so well in this soil, too! Isn't that difficult? How did you do that?"

"What would I be if I could not perform such a simple task?" The demon smirked in his usually secretive manner, elegantly dodging the question as Soma looked on, enthralled whilst he crouched amongst the flowers.

"That's so amazing, what do they usually—." He was quickly silenced as something small collided with the back of his head with such speed that Ciel was unable to tell what it had been. Blinking in slow realization, Soma turned golden eyes down to where a perfectly intact tart rested in the dark soil. Mirthfully, he glanced back up at Ciel, picking up the pastry and wagging it at him in a warning fashion.

"Very cheeky, Mr. Earl." He chided with a soft tut of his tongue. "And here I thought you were going to listen to your butler. Oh well!" Leaping off of his haunches exuberantly, Soma began to plod towards the door, a smug expression crossing his face. "I know when to take a hint! I'll leave you two lovebirds alone!"

"_Lovebirds_—!" Ciel echoed incredulously; his voice would've reached a snarl if it had not immediately leapt up an octave. However, the back door had already closed behind Soma, leaving behind a considerably irritated earl and a very bemused butler. Nearly hearing Sebastian's silent laughter, Ciel swung his head to pin a glare on his lover who was now refilling his teacup.

"And here you were accusing _me_ of being childish?" Ciel growled; Sebastian turned to him, his lips pulling into a thinly-concealed smirk.

"It's only natural to defend my master. I was merely countering Soma's attack." Sebastian explained, placing down the stout teapot and plucking up another tart between his fingers. "Surely you'd understand that?"

Ciel did not hesitate from openly scoffing, pushing up from the white wicker chair and draping the red blanket over his shoulders. Sebastian's similarly-colored eyes followed him into the center of the garden, where Ciel curled his fingers around the thin branch of the witch hazel.

"My lord?"

The earl was silent.

"Ciel?" Sebastian said softly, a warm heaviness enveloping Ciel's shoulder a moment later. The young man pressed back into the heat of the demon's chest, slowly extending his hand behind him to brush his fingers over a cheek frigid and pale as porcelain. The blanket over his shoulder slid away to their feet as the demon wound his arms around Ciel, hands splayed purposefully over his heart and abdomen. As Sebastian pressed his lips to Ciel's neck, a wry little smile lilted onto the earl's own lips.

"I just can't help but notice that the lupine will die soon." He expressed softly. Slowly, Sebastian raised his lips to his ear.

"Master?" He pressed gently. Ciel closed his eyes, finally releasing the witch hazel and slipping the hand below Sebastian's, guarding his pulse.

"Despite the fact you've managed to have it bloom in these conditions, even _you_ can't keep it alive forever." He remarked solemnly, feeling a heaviness tighten about his voice. "When it snows, it will die."

The silence that followed was undisturbed, save for a distant and low rattle of wind through fall leaves. Ciel turned his chin into his shoulder, bearing his neck to Sebastian's lips once more. They touched upon his pulse briefly, but did not linger there as he expected.

"It's a sad truth." Sebastian admitted, resting his chin upon Ciel's shoulder. "And the flowers will have an even smaller chance of reproducing properly in the spring without the presence of the karner blue."

"Karner blue?" Ciel echoed distantly, eyes finally fluttering open, heavy-lidded.

"A butterfly." Was the simple reply. "It depends on wild lupine as its food and home; and in return, the lupine it feeds upon is known to produce stronger plants in the next strain."

"I see." Ciel said in a low whisper. "I wouldn't suppose you'd have any American butterflies fluttering about here in the middle of November, would you?"

Once more, Sebastian was silent. Ciel craned his head back, a questioning frown forming from his wry smirk—only to be met with the signature feline curl of Sebastian's lips. Subtlety so, the demon raised his chin, gently gesturing towards the flowers.

Ciel turned, and his breath caught in his throat, soft and tiny: "_Oh_…"

Sure enough, landing upon one of the lithe stocks of lupine was a butterfly brushing its black-streaked cobalt wings against the flower. Slowly, it fluttered several times—as if yawning drowsily—and fell still. Ciel stared at the sleeping butterfly, wide-eyed as his heart began to palpitate against his and Sebastian's hands. With a low laugh, the demon curled his fingers around Ciel's, pressing gently to his chest.

"I'd ask how you managed this…" Ciel whispered, tightening his grip upon the demon. "But I suppose I already know the answer."

"And what would that be, hmm?" Sebastian prompted lightly, the hand rested upon Ciel's stomach coming up to scoop his cheek into a caress. For a brief moment, Ciel turned into the kiss, tasting something distantly heavy and sweet and so distinctly _Sebastian_.

The reply formed on his lips with a knowing grin. "That you're one hell of a butler?"

The cat's smirk deepened as he brushed his nose against the human's. "You know me all too well."

"I should hope." Ciel muttered, quirking an eyebrow as he felt Sebastian's breath upon his lips once more—

"_CIEL_!"

The earl's lips passed through thin air as he nearly stumbled into a distinct lack of demon butler. Discombobulated, he righted himself and spun towards the doors. Soma had burst into the gardens, carrying with him a broom wielded across his chest like a soldier would carry a halberd into battle. Sebastian had relocated himself to the whicker and glass tea table, striking a match below the kettle as if nothing had been transpiring moments before. With an exasperated sigh, Ciel returned his attention to the broom-toting man doing a nervous little jig in his garden. Ciel's eyebrow rose once more, ticking this time in true annoyance.

"What is it, Soma?" He demanded coldly, surreptitiously scooping the blanket from the garden floor and brushing the soil from it absentmindedly. However, Soma paid no attention to the oddly placed linen, his golden eyes darting around the garden nervously, as if searching for a hidden enemy.

"There's a suspicious looking man here!" He growled, grip tightening around the broom as his expression drew into that of honest distain. "He says he has a message for you, Ciel."

"Oh?" The earl inquired lowly, brows now dropping into a glare. Violet-blue hooked with garnet for a moment as Sebastian quietly continued to fix the tea, an un-spoken understanding blooming between the two of them.

_This is not a threat._

Meanwhile, Soma was nodding earnestly while beginning to crinkle up his nose. "And such a grubby man, too! Nothing but a cabby attempting to weasel his way onto the Phantomhive London estate—hah! Not while the great Soma Asman Kadar is around to protect his best friend's—."

"Cabby?" Ciel interrupted, confused. Something stirred within the back of his mind: a tall woman leaning to hiss something to a tiny crooked-toothed man, blonde hair spilling over one of her shoulders—looming behind the animated brunette before the wrought iron gate.

Somewhere outside the foggy clouds of Ciel's mind, Soma was still ranting, now twirling the broom before him with ridiculous intent. "—if he's one of the villains attempting to take the life of my best friend and his unborn baby, I'll show him the spirit of a _true_ friend!"

"Didn't you realize he was with Mademoiselle Brun?" Ciel inquired, feeling an odd tremble come to his hands as he tightened them into fists. "The woman you so adored not two weeks ago?"

Soma froze, the broom clattering on the garden floor melodramatically as he gaped openly at Ciel, "_No. _You can't be serious, can you Ciel? I mean, I thought Mademoiselle was—."

"You thought incorrectly." Ciel shook his head, the tremors now creeping into his arms and running up his spine, making him freeze. '_Two weeks._ Two weeks. _Two weeks gone and what have I done to prepare for this mess? Idiot. _Idiot.'

"Do not show him in." Ciel instructed. Soma blinked owlishly up at him, but the teen's head had snapped up towards Sebastian. The demon was standing calmly at the side of the tea table, lips drawn into a thin line. "We'll meet him in the front."

"Understood." Sebastian complied, now turning towards the other young man still hovering in the doorway. "Master Soma, if you would please?" He gestured lightly towards the inside of the house and the prince adjusted his confused stare before nodding distantly and backtracking into the manor. The moment the door closed behind him, Ciel hissed a breath in between his teeth, making the demon start. "My lord?"

"I am a fool." Ciel growled, gripping a handful of his hair. "I've been so—." He glanced from Sebastian's calm gaze to the ground, feeling disgusted with himself and heart-clenchingly guilty all at once. Blaming Sebastian seemed childish and unnecessary at this point. He had very well _allowed_ himself to be drowned in bliss. "I have done nothing to prepare for this and I was _well aware_ of what was—."

His words were stifled in his lover's lips as he found Sebastian wrapping a gentle hand around his cheek, the other secured around the small of his back, bringing his frail body in to close the gap between them. "Do not worry, darling." He said softly, breath ghosting over Ciel's lips as he filled the interrupted kiss; Ciel fought to stay still in his embrace, body trembling from hot chagrin. "What kind of butler would I be if I could not protect my lord?" One of Ciel's tremulous hands was gathered into the demon's cool cloth touch and drawn to his lips, where he pressed a chaste kiss upon his lord's fingers. "The messenger is none of your concern, my lord. If I may accompany you to the front gardens?"

Ciel nodded shakily, catching Sebastian's fingertips as they broke apart. The butler glanced back towards him, arching an eyebrow as Ciel bit his lip and trained his eyes upon the ground. He nodded once more, stiffly so.

The walk through the house was a blur, as were Soma's words as he pattered up beside Ciel, jabbering away some trivial nonsense as he waved his broom about weakly. Ciel kept his shoulders square and jaw set as he moved throughout the hallways and came to pause at the front door where Agni was lingering, bandaged hand braced against the frame. He glanced back towards Ciel, cold eyes narrowing as he stepped aside to gesture to the cabby, whom had been so polite as to light a fag upon the porch. The squat man tapped a toeless shoe impatiently, eyes darting around the entrance hall as he took a long drag and blew a plume of hazy smoke into the building.

"Mister McKinstry has a message he would like to relay to you, Ciel." The Indian man began, his lips drawn into a taut line as the cabby snorted loudly and threw the cigarette butt upon the marble tile, digging it in with his heel. Ciel noticed Sebastian visibly bristle out of the corner of his eye and felt his tension ebb as a bit of a smirk twisted onto his lips.

"Quit wif the formalities, you King Lear." The grubby man grunted, reaching into the front lapel of his tweed coat and extracting a shockingly pristine white envelope sealed with rich royal blue wax. "This is fer the li'le guv." He extended the envelope towards Ciel with a yellow grin displaying a row of crooked teeth.

Raising his chin, Ciel calmly accepted the note marked _Earl Phantomhive_ in the same sickeningly delicate handwriting that had been upon the notes Aberline had presented to him weeks back. He flipped the letter over and observed the sealing wax pressed with a shield bearing Saint Andrew's cross and three fleur de lis. '_How charming_,' He thought bitterly. '_That they would go this far to create a pretty little death threat._'

"Will that be all, Mister McKinstry?" Sebastian inquired coldly from beside Ciel, setting a heavy hand upon his lover's shoulder. Ciel usually would have shied away from the contact, embarrassed, but suddenly felt as if he had regained all sense of control over the situation at hand and chose to raise his eyebrow at the little man.

"Unless you've chosen to further taint my master's home?" The butler asked with sudden honeyed tone, a disturbingly sweet smile upon his lips. McKinstry snorted once more, waving a hand at the pair and turning on his heel, mumbling in thick cockney. Agni shut the door behind him with a bit more force than necessary—as evidenced by the trembling of the paintings on the wall. Ciel held out his hand as Soma plodded into the room nervously, now using the broom as a pitiful shield.

"What did he want?" He asked as Ciel found his hand filled by a heavy weight. He smiled wryly at the letter opener there, glancing to Sebastian briefly. The demon, however, seemed to have no knowledge of the meaning that the paper knife held to Ciel and continued to stare forward, awaiting the letter's opening.

Digging the blade below the wax seal, Ciel extracted a fine piece of parchment, scented with the disgustingly bright flavor of wildflowers. Wrinkling his nose in distain, the earl unfolded the letter and read:

_Dearest Earl Phantomhive,_

_ Seeing as you have only met in person with my colleague Cosette, I feel that now would be an appropriate time as any to introduce myself. My name is Leona Fitzpatrick, and I was quite fortunate to see you and your handsome butler strolling about London's shopping district on Sunday, October 8. However, I was upset to discover—through my keen sense of smell—that you were harboring the offspring of said butler. In the community of our kind, it is considered a rarity that a demon (or incubi, aisling &etc) would allow his human mate to carry its halfling child without killing one or both, let alone stay by the human's side! While you are very blessed to have such a kind butler by your side, I regret to inform you that while you may look upon this practice as natural and endearing, it is a great threat to both yourself as well as the community of our kind._

_ This being said, my colleague and I have taken it upon ourselves to relieve you of the child as early as possible. I assure you that most of our kind would not have such mercy upon you—if any others were to discover your situation, both you and the child would have been killed immediately upon the London street. Keeping this in mind, both Cosette and I are terribly upset that our earlier attempts to intervene were unsuccessful. As my colleague stated upon her earlier visit, you were to be given two weeks to come upon a decision. Regretfully, we have not heard from you since then and must assume that you are still with child. Though the agreement comes to an end tomorrow, we are extending another hand to you today. At three post meridiem, Cosette and I will be awaiting you and your butler's presence at the Kensal Green Cemetery at the Anglican chapel. Perhaps here we will be able to settle upon a compromise?_

_Regards,_

_Leona N. Fitzpatrick_

Ciel quickly handed the letter to Sebastian over his shoulder, feeling his lips tug into a clear snarl as his butler made a low noise of distaste before folding the parchment into the lapels of his coat.

Soma continued to waver back and forth nervously, blinking curious eyes at the pair, "Well?" He pressed.

"As Miss Fitzpatrick so charmingly put," Ciel explained calmly, his hands balling tightly into fists at the thinly-veiled threats and sweetened words. "She has requested my presence at Kensal Green cemetery at three in the afternoon, where she and her 'colleague' plan to murder me."

"WHAT?" The prince barked, voicing the widening of both his and Agni's eyes. "Ciel! You can't just let her do that! You're staying here, with Agni and me!" He insisted, dropping the broom and racing across the entrance hall to embrace Ciel, smothering the teen's face in the crook of his shoulder. "Sebastian can go to Kensal Green and take care of those awful Rakshasa and you won't ever have to set a foot into such a dange—."

"Out of the question." Sebastian interrupted smoothly. Agni started, glancing from Ciel to the young man currently smothering him and back to Sebastian.

"But Sebastian, my friend, it would be foolish to—." The human butler began; Sebastian cut him off, holding up a single hand and shaking his head.

"I'm afraid that this is not a situation in which I can be separated from my lord." The demon butler concluded. "While I far from doubt your abilities, I fear that the aggressors may be expecting such a turn of events. If I arrive at the cemetery by myself, it's possible that they may have… _reinforcements_ from others within their 'community' waiting to attack the manor."

"But those are all just possibilities!" Soma whined, still clinging to Ciel. The earl pushed himself away from his friend's unwanted embrace, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles from his clothing as he took his usual stance by his butler's side.

"Sebastian kn—." He began, but was suddenly interrupted by said butler.

"Forgive me for sounding straightforward or arrogant, but I am the only one who can properly protect Master Ciel." He said simply. Instantly, both Soma and Agni looked taken aback by the use of the earl's name, exchanging heavily loaded glances. While Ciel usually would've been hotly embarrassed or frustrated at the hardly-subtle shift in the butler's demeanor in the presence of the two, he felt the tiniest of smiles creep onto his face, stretching when a warm hand closed over his shoulder.

"I apologize for interrupting, my lord." Sebastian filled in quickly, red eyes darting to meet Ciel's. "Or if I am outside of my boundaries by using—."

"No matter." Ciel shook his head before turning to face his demon, his prideful smile softening into something more sincere. "I agree with you."

For a moment, Sebastian looked genuinely shocked, eyes dashing between the flabbergasted foreigners and his master before shock evanesced into an impeccable expression Ciel never would have been able to place upon the butler's face. Shaking himself from the bold display of their affections, Soma began to wave his hands in a flippant, yet earnest way. "Even so! If we're dealing with something stronger than both Agni and Sebastian, then there's no way we're letting you go alone." The prince's brow furrowed in genuine concern as he brought his hands back to his sides. "No way…"

"I suppose the extra protection would not go un-useful. What do you think, Sebastian?" Ciel gave his servant a meaningful glance, recalling Cosette's blatant threat concerning the prince's fragile humanity. Sebastian nodded slightly, seeming to understand the meaning behind the inquiry.

"Whatever my lord feels would be best—I do think, however, that it would be unwise of us to leave anyone here unguarded due to the threat of a third party."

"Then the three of us shall travel to Kensal green together?" Agni asked, glancing to his charge for confirmation. Soma gave an enthusiastic nod before turning back to Ciel and Sebastian.

"So what's our course of action?" He asked, holding his fists before him like an excited child going into a game of war.

'_Do you even know how serious this is_?' Ciel thought, repressing an irate twitch and sigh. "We depart for Kensal Green in one hour and attempt peaceful negotiations. If things do not smooth over following those events…" He trailed off pointedly, glancing meaningfully at the demon by his side once more. "Then we shall have to see. Sebastian?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"Prepare a carriage."


	8. Succotrina

"**Broken Pieces"**

**Chapter Eight**

**Succotrina**

"_My friends, we will not go again or ape an ancient rage,_

_Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age,_

_But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth,_

_And see undrugged in evening light the decent inn of death;_

_For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen,_

_Before we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green_."

G.K. Chesterson (The Rolling English Road)

The garden cemetery spilled over Kensal Green, its brick and metal walls flush against the Grand Union Canal. Intricately carved structures and twisting monuments craned over the feeble barriers, glowing pale under the overcast sky as the mismatched quartet made their way to the entrance. Ciel had attended many funerals at the site, having become a popular resting place for famous poets and members of the British aristocracy within the scant sixty years of its existence. It spread flat and morbid over acres upon acres of overgrown arbor and flora, the smooth land and dirt pathways a stark contrast to the narrow, brink-lined hills of the cemetery that housed the Phantomhive family plot.

Fat raindrops were beginning to fall, staining the air with an oddly fresh tang. Careful to shield his ammunition from rainfall, Ciel slid several shots into the chamber of his Smith and Wesson before snapping it back into the pistol with the butt of his heel. He stashed the revolver within his traveling cloak beside a cold shape at his breast. Flinching, he discovered the letter opener within the lapel of his blazer, realizing with dark irony that he had slid it there after opening the letter. Scowling at the concealed paper knife, Ciel turned his gaze upon the triumphal arch acting sentinel to the cemetery, lip pinched between his teeth.

"How far is the Anglican chapel?" Ciel inquired, hands tightening into fists.

"It can't be too far!" Soma interjected before Sebastian was able to speak. "It's all flat and you should be able to see it once we get in there; it's the one in the middle, right? Shouldn't be too much of a wa—."

"Shut _up_." Ciel half-snarled, pinning the prince with a glare that seemed far more murderous than intended. "Have you any idea what I'm risking bringing you along?"

Soma shrunk into Agni, who responded by producing an umbrella from his robes and placing a gentle hand upon his master's shoulder, wary of the conflict unfolding. "Perhaps we should remain outside?" He suggested, glancing uncertainly from the pouting Soma to Sebastian.

"It would be unwise." Frowned the demon, unfolding his own black umbrella from under his arm. Ciel quickly shrugged out from under the slick material, pacing with erratic steps towards one of the two small lodges flanking the Doric arches. Suddenly, a firm hand closed around his, Sebastian pulling him softly back below the reaches of the umbrella. "They're empty. As is the rest of the cemetery."

Turning his nose towards the air, the demon took a light sniff. "I smell no one other than us and several other presences within—unless the succubi have taken extra precautions to mask the scents of any potential allies, they have done well to keep this place free of all onlookers."

"How fortunate for us." Ciel snorted, feeling the tiny tremors begin to seep into his fingers once more. Sebastian sighed, smoothing over the count's taut hands with the pad of his thumb. Sebastian wrapped his spare arm around him, shifting the umbrella and shielding Ciel from the onslaught of rain as he placed his lips close to his ear.

"You should relax, darling." He instructed lowly, his voice oddly gentle for such a moment. "You have done wonderful so far when dealing with Mademoiselle Brun; hold your head up high, do not buckle below their words and above all else," He paused, breaking away from Ciel. "Do not let them know you are afraid. Your confidence is key."

Ciel nodded stiffly, allowing his hand to brush Sebastian's side before the demon smiled and fixed his stare upon the alabaster archway. "Well then, my lord—shall we?"

The earl drew his lips into a taught line, adjusting the top hat upon his head as they made their way into the cemetery. Soma made a low noise as they entered and Ciel saw him shift closer to Agni, muttering something under his breath in his native tongue.

The Green fanned out from the entrance. Elegantly thick trees and pristine autumn gardens whose upkeep were worthy of Sebastian claimed lines of crooked gravestones, tree limbs and ivy embracing sepulchers and burial vaults. As the rain continued to fall upon The Green, mud washed away thick hearse tracks leading to the dismal Dissenters chapel cornered against the wall.

Ciel, Sebastian, Agni, and Soma traveled through the rough mud pathways, their silent procession a parody of what had transpired there hundreds of times before.

'_Only to meet death in place of rest_.' Ciel added wryly as he spotted the ivory chapel looming over the central circle of the cemetery. His hand tightened upon his cane as they moved slowly through the rain.

A sudden tremor within the low branches of an oak tree snatched Ciel's eye, and for a split second his heart clenched in fear. The snatcher gazed at him with opaque eyes, twisting its head into a curious cock whilst releasing a low, intrigued twitter. The earl seized before he felt Sebastian's hand on his shoulder—however, the demon's eyes were trained straight ahead, paying no mind to the harpy.

"He's happy to see you!" Cosette's voice commented brightly, breaking Ciel's confusion. The woman had appeared from within the chapel and was now draping her vibrant golden skirt over the white steps, twirling a soaked lace umbrella over her shoulder. "We've missed you, dear Earl!" She winked benevolently, urging a sneer onto the corner of Ciel's lip. "La, I hope you don't mind that we took cover in the chapel? My parasol was getting terribly wet and I didn't want to risk sullying my skirt—Ooooh!"

Stormy eyes flashed brightly as she caught sight of Agni and Soma for what seemed like the first time since their arrival. "And you've brought your friends straight to us! How kind of you, Earl!" Her smile curved into something wicked, eyes scrunching and glowing and eliciting something truly awful within Ciel. "It surely does save us the trouble now, doesn't it?" Cosette added in a silvery voice.

The addressed youth scoffed and prepared to counter her statement, but his remark was drowned out by a passionate declaration from Soma: "As if there was any way we'd let you use us as pawns in your game, you demon woman!" He cried. Agni started, reaching out with a gentle request, but he was all but ignored. "I don't _care_ what you're capable of, you witch! I'll do my best to protect my friends until the very end!"

Cosette was silent, blinking at the prince with a wide-eyed expression that rivaled the harpy's before she burst into peals of laughter, slamming her lace glove over her mouth as the silvery giggles died into little convulsions; somewhere within the trees, the harpy cawed out, mocking its mistress's amusement. "La! H-how charming!" The brunette chuckled, resting her cheek upon her palm. "What a sweet display of affection, my little friend."

Soma stood his ground, glaring up at the woman defiantly before Agni placed a hand upon his shoulder. "Master Soma." He said lowly, leaning close to the prince so only he could hear. "It would not be wise to make such retorts in the presence of this woman…"

"Your butler is right," Trilled Cosette as the wet beating of wings filled the air; Ciel's eyes twitched upwards, the pale light overhead eclipsed by the harpy before it landed at the petite woman's side, dwarfing her further. "We have no time for such exchanges at the moment. My Leona is a busy woman and would like to finish the matter at hand as quickly as possible. Now, then!" She clapped her hands together, the umbrella clattering to the steps before her. "If you'd please, earl?" Cosette gestured towards the chapel behind her, the rain soaking her blouse and making it cling. "Miss Fitzpatrick would like to have a word with you."

Ciel nodded, glancing towards Sebastian to find that impeccable façade upon his face once more. Rolling his shoulders, the earl began up the steps towards the grinning woman, the butler beside him—

Suddenly, Cosette's arm had jutted out into the path of the demon at Ciel's side, her smile stretching and becoming something purely sick. "Alone." She added, her fingertips twitching in some sort of perverse excitement.

Sebastian glared down at her impassively. "Out of the question—."

"Unless you'd like me to open him up here, _dearest_?" She hissed the final word, dark chills coiling in Ciel's stomach as thin black claws tore through the tips of her gloves: glossy, wet, and deadly. Sebastian's gaze hardened as she leered up at him triumphantly. "You'll be talking to _me_. In there." She gestured towards the Dissenter's chapel in the distance. "And Miss Fitzpatrick will be conversing with our dear Earl in there." She then gestured behind her, without bothering to let her eyes leave Sebastian's.

Ciel raised his chin, staring straight forward at the chapel as he watch the woman at his side quiver in anticipation. "I'll go ahead inside." He announced sullenly, eyes narrowing at Soma's indignant hiss. "I'd like to meet Miss Fitzpatrick once and for all."

"Of course." Said Cosette lowly, hunger evident in her voice. "Well then, Sebastian?" In a slick movement she had curled herself around the butler's arm, smirking purposefully over at Ciel. The harpy fluttered its wings, swiveling its head to lock its twin gaze upon Ciel. Two pairs of eyes: milky red and bright scarlet. "Let's begin."

He moved like a statue come to life, using his muddy cane to make his way up the stairs and paused, looking back over the circle where Cosette was twirling herself and Sebastian towards the Dissenter's chapel, giggling madly like a schoolgirl. For a moment Sebastian held Ciel's gaze before the earl bit his lip and stared at the great set of wooden doors before him. Suddenly, he felt inherently _alone_, despite the presence of his two comrades behind him and the shuffling harpy, which was now nuzzling its beak into its feathers, distracted. Ciel was alone in the frozen water, the green of the cemetery curling its way around him in a suffocating embrace. Sebastian couldn't leave him. _Wouldn't _leave him. Not now. _Not now_. Sebastian was to be at his side, how could he have let himself be broken away from Ciel once more? But a simple order was all it took. A simple order, and—

And it could be too late.

However…

Ciel reached out, Sebastian's echoing within his head as his hand trembled.

'_Do not let them know you are afraid. Your confidence is key._'

He pushed open the door.

Ciel did not know what to expect as he entered the chapel, low-burning candles engulfing the room in a sweet smell that did not quite mask the scent of embalming fluid. For the first time in several weeks, his stomach churned. However, it was not because of the baby.

Leona Fitzpatrick stood at the head of the chapel, resting a hand against the delicately carved wooden slab where a casket would usually be displayed. Charmingly enough, she had dressed to match the chapel itself—sweeping ivories and royal blues to match the high plaster domes. She did not look up until the door closed softly beside Ciel, her green eyes enraptured completely with something beyond his vision.

"Ciel Phantomhive." She greeted him warmly, turning towards him and extending a hand. Her presence was much calmer than her tiny, erratic counterpart's, and yet she still greeted him in a way that spoke to him of a stranger disturbingly familiar with him. "Would you hang up your cloak and hat?" She gestured towards a meek coat hanger beside the door. "Your cane, too. I would fancy a walk about the chapel and I don't believe the caretakers would appreciate the mud." She said with a gentle smile and Ciel met her stare calmly, despite the hammering of his heart. Silently, he complied and began to hang his things, wincing as he felt the reassuring weight of his revolver leave him. _Damn_ that foul—!

"Is something the matter?" Leona inquired gently, and Ciel turned to see her giving him a smug look. The only weapon upon his person was the letter opener folded into the lapels of his blazer, the silhouette of the metal pressing an ironic weight against his heart as he made his way down the aisle and reluctantly took Leona's hand. "What a polite young man." She remarked sincerely as they pivoted and started through the rows of dark pews. "Humans usually disgust me, but it's the few like you that remind me why we've let them live."

"How kind of you." Ciel frowned as they rounded the first pew and began to twist around the next. Leona laughed lowly, a knowing smile coming to her lips.

"Don't be smart with me, Earl. I know how strongly you loathe me—hiding it would merely be an insult to the both of us." The blonde sighed as she paused, turning to hold Ciel's wrists, their arms forming a box. "Ah! Look at us, Earl! We match!"

She gestured down towards her clothing with a nod of her head, the royal blues of her and Ciel's clothing pressing together at her skirt as she pulled him closer, eyes glowing heavily. "How similar we are." Leona whispered emptily before breaking away and nearly dragging Ciel along with her like a limp doll, heels clicking impatiently against the tile. "You know, Ciel. We're both _very_ stubborn people."

'_You're a person_?' He thought, repressing a snort as he righted himself, removing the power from the woman at his side.

"If you were any other common human girl, I would have snuffed you out long ago." The succubus sighed, her voice a bit too whimsical for the shadows the two cast over the wall. "Why, ignoring all the chances I've given you and every warning! I cannot say I've ever come this far." She smiled, pupils contracting as her eyes widened with mischief. "However, there's some novelty in letting _you_ live, at this point."

"And what would that be?" Ciel inquired, breaking their gazes and giving Leona a swift tug across the aisle, causing her to admit a rich laugh.

"Why, what would be the fun in letting you know _that_, hmmn?" She quipped as they turned. "No… you're far too interesting to kill. Or rather, your connection with that caulist is."

"Cau—."

He was silenced as Leona grinned toothily and wrenched him to her breast, her feet clattering as she pulled him down the aisle and spun him about—like a twisted sort of _dans macabre_. Moments later, the small of his back connected roughly with the edge of the wooden slab as Leona pressed into him incessantly.

"One who is of half demon blood and half of the blood of an incubus. The most deadly type of Satan's creatures to be dancing alongside." Leona explained, reaching up to brush a loose hair from Ciel's face as her claw snagged the string of his eye patch as if it were thin air. The silk article fluttered to the ground as Leona smiled, tracing down the curve of Ciel's throat with that dangerous claw, pressing hard enough to elicit awful chills where it touched, but never to break skin—

"We are damned, our kind." Leona said, suddenly dropping her eyes to the floor. "Lilith. Lucifer. Demons. Incubi. Succibi. Caulists. Cambions. Aisling— what have you." Her fingertips dropped to the surface behind them, eliciting a low sound as her claws curled around the wood. "We are the tempters and the sinners and the wicked. No matter how powerful we are—be we the lowliest little scum of an imp, one of the fair folk, or a reaper—we are only created to destroy and consume. Tell me, Earl, have you ever heard of a demon in love?"

Emerald eyes snapped to meet lapis, intense and unwavering. Ciel stared back, his heart now positively racing as he wracked his memory. "No. Is he beside you now when you are at the mercy of a monster? No. Could you ever be certain his words were more than delicate little lies? No. And tell me how you acquired this contract with him in the first place. His servitude in exchange for _what_, Ciel?" Suddenly, she became mocking. "Your _heart_? Oh no," Her hand curled back up, sliding over his chest and hovered over where the paper knife was—not even _touching_, but _feeling_ and he was shrouded in that icy hot fear all over again. "Something here, but much deeper. What _you_ couldn't ever feel, Ciel. Because after all, is he not just a cat?"

Ciel blinked, taken aback by the woman's statement. "W-what do you mean?" He asked, voice wavering despite himself. Leona laughed once, deep in her chest.

"The demon mocks the animal, my dearest." She explained, voice low and full of wry humor. "A cat will adore its master as long as it may live, but only for a warm body and the short-lived pleasure of companionship. And moreover—." Her eyes twitched down to where her fingers were curling about something intangible and black raced over Ciel's vision for all but a moment. "Food. You promised him your soul—a _meal_—and that is why he's stayed. A quick, meaningless fuck with something delicious is only something to tide him over until he receives his end reward." A dark shudder ran down Ciel's spine, something creeping up within his belly and curling about his heart. "His kin is but another convenient addition to his side of the bargain. He'll fill you with his seed and his lies and his so-called _love_," She crooned, her other hand spreading over his shoulder blades. "But the only thing you'll ever be to him is a vessel and a meal—and once he's done with you, you'll be _empty_. So don't give him what he wants, Ciel."

Leona pulled him even closer, placing her lips by his ear. "I'm trying to _save_ you, my dear. Your soul may be lost to his taint, but your body will only ever be _yours_. Don't allow him to have half of you." The hand hovering over his chest slipped down over Ciel's abdomen as her expression twisted into something of mock pity. "Let me help you, Ciel. Let me have _mercy_ on you and your poor damned child."

For several terse moments, the chapel hung silent with the weight of her words, nothing but Ciel's rattling breaths and the nearby flicker of a candle filling their ears. Leona leered down at him, expressionless and expectant as something begin to fill her green, green eyes.

And all at once, the silence became too much and Ciel laughed.

Full, cold and staccato, he laughed until Leona's eyes were veined in red and a cruel snarl had formed on her lips. "You think this is funny, do you? I should have known better than to bargain with a _child_—."

"You're wrong." Ciel said plainly, all mirth vacant from his expression as he stared back up at the tall succubus. "Or perhaps, you are right. It _is_ my body, yes, and _this_," He grabbed her wrist with sweaty palms, wrenching it away from the swell upon his middle. "Is _my_ child. What would ever make you think that your empty words would have any sway with what I do with my body? If Sebastian is damned and does not love me, _then_ _let_ _me_ _be damned as well_. I've already given too much. Do you not think these concerns and these feelings and every dark thought and doubt that you've attempted to play have not crossed my mind thus far?" He smirked purposefully at her dumbstruck expression, tilting his head. "For one of the so-called clever damned, you are an awfully vapid woman, Miss Fitzpatrick. No. I _love_ Sebastian."

Leona stared. Ciel met her gawk, prideful, and took a deep breath, wrenching back his hand as he released his grip upon her wrist. The rain clattered upon the thin, high windows, clinging and winking in the candlelight. Suddenly, a string on Leona's head seemed to snap and she stared hard at the floor, tremors wracking her statuesque frame as a dark giggle bubbled up from within her. Beyond the blonde fringe, Ciel caught her blood-red lips curl into a tiny smile, revealing her elongated canines.

"How cheeky, Earl Phantomhive." She mumbled lowly, voice warbled at the edge and revealing her true nature. "Though I should have expected nothing less of such a lowly whore and his bastard child—."

Leona's words died on her lips as she was pressed flush against Ciel, chest contracting in a tiny gasp. Slowly, she raised her head, a trickle of bright scarlet blood leaking from the corner of her lips matching the glow of her now sanguine eyes. A dark shape shifted behind her, wrenching the woman back as Sebastian removed the makeshift spear from the center of her back with a sickening crunch and splatter of blood. Leona stumbled back, colliding roughly with the caulist's chest as he curled long-clawed fingers around her throat.

"It would be in your best interest not to insult the integrity of my master, Miss Fitzpatrick." Sebastian suggested smoothly, his fingers tightening and pressing upon her wind pipe as he flashed a disturbingly placid smile.

For a split second, all was still before Leona released an unholy scream, wrenching the demon's hand from her throat with an awful cracking noise. Ciel winced, shying away at the sounds of Sebastian's low growl and the slap of flesh meeting tile. He heard the hollow clatter of the tipped wrought iron post as it rolled away and the slam of wooden doors splintering and a low, tormented cry.

Things were happening far too fast all over again and Ciel caught sight of Cosette charging towards him, the harpy fast on her heels in a black blur. Sebastian had Leona pinned to the tile floor, their hands tightened around one another's throats as he stared at Ciel, horror flashing in those red eyes for what seemed like the first time: "Young mast—."

With quick resolve, Ciel reached into the lapel of his coat, removing the letter opener and brandishing it in the face of the crazed brunette before him. Cosette started, releasing a vicious snarl as the point of the knife nearly grazed her cheek.

"What do you think you're doing, _darling_?" The tiny woman hissed, violent tremors wracking her frame as the harpy's talons scratched at the tile below it as it pulled to a stop, bobbing its head in excitement. "You think that little thing will stop me?" Cosette extended her arms plainly to her sides, and Ciel could see that her fingers and lips were stained with blood. Sebastian's blood. Anger began to overtake the fear within his stomach, bubbling madly.

"Go ahead ,Ciel." The brunette whispered, dropping her head as a dangerous smirk crossed her lips. "Try me."

"I apologize, mademoiselle." An even voice said from the doorway. Cosette flinched, throwing her gaze over her shoulder as Agni entered the chapel, just as Leona managed to heave Sebastian from her neck and dig her claws into his throat, effectively throwing them both to their sides. "I usually would never lay a hand on a woman." Leona hit the wall with a deafening _crack_ as something within her snapped. Agni began to unwind the bandages concealing his hand, meeting Cosette's dumbstruck stare head-on. "However, this is a special circumstance."

Without warning, Cosette twitched, her body jerking violently as her fingers splayed apart and she released a feral snarl—the harpy shrieked as they charged Agni, who calmly gathered Cosette up by the front of her blouse and flung her into the wall beside Leona like a cloth puppet. Ciel started, numb mind ripped from the spectacle as gentle arms encircled his waist. Limbs seizing with sudden dread, he stared over his shoulder to see a soaking-wet Sebastian. The demon smiled despite the streaks of blood flowing from the deep punctures upon his neck, gathering Ciel up in his arms and dashing from the chapel. A squall of rain hit them instantaneously; Soma's anxious cries the next. Someone was saying something and Sebastian was apologizing for leaving and—

Ciel's ear was pressed against Sebastian's chest, the other cupped beneath the demon's hand as a bloodcurdling scream split the air, causing several roosting ravens to take flight from a nearby tree. He was released with a brief apology as the demon stole away once more, Soma's hands wrapping around him as they backed into a tree.

It was chaos around them as Agni burst from the chapel, clutching something deep in color and dripping in his right hand—his other was pressed over his chest, concealing a peculiarly nasty wound that ran from his shoulder across his upper abdomen.

Cosette was hot on his heels, her hands now positively slathered in blood, limp, wet curls flying around her face as she flung herself at Agni, screaming too high and too franticly to be understood. They collided seconds later, Cosette pushing him into mid-air before Agni's back collected with the chapel steps. Soma cried out to his butler and Cosette's clawed hand closed around his fist, fruitlessly attempting to wrench the squirming parcel out of his grasp—

"CIEL!"

That was Sebastian's cry and how on earth could he sound so—

_Oh_.

The overpowering scent of blood and rotting meat was all too familiar as the creature closed around him for the third time. Everything finally seemed to be slowing down to a pace that the earl was able to process; however, it appeared to be far too late.

Ciel stared back into his reflection, warped in the opaque eyes of the harpy. Down his gaze traveled to the exposed, empty gash in its grey breast, bleeding anew upon him in violent gushes of stinking blood. The snatcher was now heartless, and it's twitching, sickle-like beak was ensnaring something within Ciel's chest—what Leona had stroked and molested only moment before—intangible, she had called it. Without the heart beating within, the snatcher would very well live up to its name, and it appeared as if Ciel's soul was to house that gap within its chest.

His head swam and swirled there in the rain as it began to tug—Ciel distantly heard himself release a low cry as he fell to his knees, his soul pulled taut from his chest. Black was dashing over his vision, punctuated by brief orbs of brilliant color as he gagged and flailed, fingers scraping uselessly in the mud as he attempted to pull himself from the cold water filling his mouth. For split seconds at a time, everything became sense—strong and overpowering. Something like tendons were beginning to snap within Ciel's core, each causing him to jerk violently with white-hot electricity. The base scent of mud and flesh filled his nose, heat stung at his eyes, and his limbs twitched and flailed. Black, grey and red twisted in his vision as he began to choke and sputter on the rainwater filling his mouth.

He was going to die.

The awful, dethatched notion struck him with horror, filling him with cold dread before he went numb—the last image of himself reflected in the harpy's orb-like eyes before—

Ciel felt a heavy weight collide with his chest a split moment later, and his waterlogged limbs were filled with warmth. However, his sharp intake of breath had caused him to inhale the remainder of the rainwater gathered within his mouth and he fell over to his side in the mud, convulsing against the harpy's still wings as he fought for breath. The creature lay dead beside him, body twitching violently one last time before it went lax and the stink of defecation filled Ciel's mouth, causing him to turn to the side and vomit in the trail of mud and gore between the beast's raw neck and severed head, still heaving for breath as his mind twisted and jerked back into place.

Shaking hands slipped under his arms as he was heaved to his feet, Soma's garbled home tongue and a violent howl filling his ears as he stumbled backwards, eyes trained on Sebastian, not three meters away, as Leona latched onto his arm and wrenched it from his socket. Arm dangling limply, Sebastian spun and delivered a kick to the succubus' face, making her neck snap to the side and causing her to stumble away, caught off guard. Sebastian grasped onto his shoulder, forcing it back into place with a horrible wince that did not belong on his face just as Leona grasped her head and cracked it back into place, glaring at Ciel for a split moment before Agni and Cosette collided into her. The tiny woman latched onto his wound with elongated claws, throwing him from her person and Ciel found a place for the howling within his ears on her lips.

Soma was shaking him, pulling him, urging him to do _something_ in a slew of Indian and English, but all was ignored as Ciel stood, mesmerized and shaking. Watching for the first time in his life as Sebastian _struggled_ against Cosette as the waif turned upon him, still snarling and flailing her limbs wildly. Elegantly, he stepped out of her barrage of limbs, though could do nothing to miss an unsuspected kick to his chin, smearing blood over the woman's rain-and-mud drenched boots. With raw determination, Sebastian advanced towards her, sliding his fingers snug against her scalp and pulling the succubus from the ground, flinging her to the steps of the chapel. Meanwhile, Agni had pinned Leona to a headstone, his right hand tightening around her throat as she sunk her talons into his wrist, drawing forth blood. Brushing his hair from his eyes and making a great red smear over his brow, Sebastian turned towards Soma and Ciel.

"Young master," He began coolly, barely even winded. "Now would be an opportune time to seek cover along with Master Soma."

Ciel was hardly able to form a coherent thought before he felt his body jerked away by Soma, the prince tossing his dark gray cloak over one of his shoulders as they moved through the rain and the mud. Ciel felt something beating violently against his chest as the prince wrenched open the black iron gates of a burial vault. The earl pressed himself against the granite-carved names behind him, sliding down the smooth surface and landing in a heap, hands fumbling around the ties of his waterlogged traveling cloak. The gate snapped closed before him, caging himself and Soma within the tiny sepulcher. Numb, Ciel lifted himself from the floor, hand falling over his chest, pressing the paper knife there before it clattered to the tile below.

Fingers aching, he recalled that he had been holding onto the tiny thing all the while, squeezed into his palm in fear. The intangible thing within him still _ached_, as if he has strained the muscles connecting it to his heart, and nervous flutters were beginning to erupt from the pit of his stomach, nausea sweeping over him again.

Too fast.

It happened too fast, as if he were still within one of his dreams: the cage of the burial vault becoming the prison of his mind and safe haven all at once. Slowly, yet surely, the contents of his mind seemed to boil down to that moment, the blur about him twirling to a halt as he finally _breathed,_ smelling the dark tang of water upon rock and—

Scent.

Ciel's eyes widened as his heart shuttered with inspiration and a fledgling of hope, grasping the curls of the iron fence before him. Lowering himself to his knees, Ciel grasped the soiled letter opener, feeling its ironic weight evaporate as Undertaker's words played in his mind over and over, fueling his cold resolve:

'_You'll know what to do_.'

Again.

And again.

Hands working apart from his mind, Ciel gathered his cloak into his hands, folding it and rolling it into a neat little pinwheel. Soma's confused gaze pulled the earl's eyes from the task at hand as he shrugged off his blazer and began to unclasp the buttons of his dress shirt.

"Ciel?" Soma inquired distantly, his voice cracking with something vaguely like horror. Taking a deep breath, the earl squeezed the rain from his cloak, hands trembling. "_Ciel!_ What are you doing?"

"I'll need something to stop the blood flow." He explained, voice hoarse and shockingly even as he grasped the material with one hand and pressed the tip of the letter opener to his exposed abdomen, flinching away at the metal's icy caress. Soma started, mouth flapping wildly as he feinted towards Ciel, but the earl's hand twitched and blood spilled over the blue cloth before him, darkening the material pressed to his middle. Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, Ciel went through his task, biting back the tears that strung and pressed and threatened to flow over.

'_I'm so sorry. _I'm so sorry_. I have to do this._' He thought, training his eyes straight ahead at the brief flashes of Sebastian through the dark twists of metal and thick sheets of rain, mind blank save for his actions and their implications. '_Please. Please. _Please.'

Gasping at the sting, he fought to keep his hand steady and true to his intentions, crying out as he finally wrenched it from his middle and leaned into the bundle of his cloak.

Flinging the tainted letter opener to the wall, it fell to the floor of the sepulcher as Ciel brought himself back to full height, hissing when the wound gave a great smart and he pitched forward into the wrought iron gate, the thing clanging open. Stumbling down the steps, Ciel winced as blood seeped though the cloak and smeared over his hands and the front of his trousers. Soma followed after him, and in the corner of his eye, Ciel caught the prince shaking his head slowly, face frozen in the same expression of denial and horror as tears leaked down his cheeks.

"How could you?" He whispered tremulously. However, his inquiries went unnoticed as Ciel made his way towards the Anglican chapel for the final time, grimacing despite his attempts to maintain a straight expression. Cursing under his breath, the earl realized that the blood was spreading quickly over his front and he seized in horror for a split second before pressing on, his mouth still filled with the metallic taste of blood and the scent of rain.

"Stop fighting." He instructed firmly as he approached the chapel. His eyes were blind to all around him, never once daring to meet the wine-colored gaze of Sebastian. Dreading judgment that he feared, but knew would not come. "Stop fighting. It's over."

If there had been conflict before, Ciel would not have known from the sounds around him. There was only the rustle of wind through the trees and rain upon the ground. Finally, Ciel raised his gaze from the fleshy mess of the harpy smeared over The Green and met with Leona's now-green eyes as the woman gaped in disbelief. However, the tremors wracking his body came not from fear of the succubus, but from fear of the demon whose claws were now embedded in her cheek.

"Young mas—."

He dare not meet those eyes.

"It's dead." He announced with stony finality, hands shaking upon the bundle as one of the tears he had hoped so dearly to keep bottled within slipped down his cheek, making a pale trail in the mud gathered there. "I made sure of it." He added lowly as his lips curled up into a dark smile and his eyes dropped to his feet, where the blood was beginning to pool. "It's in here."

Ciel held the cloak even tighter to himself, wincing as it drew forth another stab of pain within his abdomen and chest.

For a moment, the stillness hung around him.

Before Cosette fell to her knees and began to wail like a child.

"Damn it. _Damn it_! DAMN IT ALL!" The woman screamed, beating the muddied ground with her fists like a spoilt little girl. Ciel stared at her, watching Agni bring himself to his feet, staring at something beyond Ciel. He wavered on the spot, watching Leona as she swiftly dislodged Sebastian's—'_Don't look at him. Don't look at him. Don'tlookathimdon'tlook_.'—claws from her cheek and curled her arms around herself, head dropping to the side in confusion.

"Why would you—?" She began. And Ciel nearly cracked as her eyes narrowed, cold and calculating, before her lips curled into a sneer. "Worthless brat." She spat at him, turning on her heel and marching across the lawn towards Cosette, whom was now crawling towards her pet's head, moaning and whining low in her throat.

"My baby… _mon petit ange noir_…!" Cosette gasped, nearly flinging herself upon the filth and the sick as she gathered up the remains of the harpy by its beak and wound her arms around it, rocking back and forth as she sobbed. "I wanted to kill it! _I wanted to_! But they took that away from me, _mon ange_! And they took you, too!"

"Get up." Leona snarled, picking up the smaller succubus by the scruff of her neck before Cosette swooned and fell against the tree, curling herself around the snatcher's head with an awful, low moan as she continued to whine on and on in French. Scoffing at the brunette woman, Leona turned back towards Ciel, stalking towards him. The earl stood stiff, clutching the blood-soaked roll of cloth to himself before he felt Sebastian's reassuringly warm arm curl around him. He did not bother to meet the demon's eyes, fearing what he may find there and what that may elicit from himself. Instead, the earl chose to meet Leona's emerald eyes with firm intent, fighting to force the mask of defiance back onto his face.

"You think it's this easy?" The blonde asked, brushing a bloodied lock of hair from her eyes. Her blue and white clothing was stained red and deep purple from what could only be a combination of her and Sebastian's blood. "Hmmn? You think you can drag it out this long and merely get away with it?"

"I believe our deal of the bargain has been met, Miss Fitzpatrick." Sebastian said evenly, and Ciel felt silent thanks for his familiarly (and falsely) amiable tone. "Unless you'd like to further discuss matters? However, I don't believe your companion would be in the best of situations to do so."

Leona scoffed, glancing back to the brunette now huddled at the base of the tree, whimpering and whispering to the harpy's head. "You may have held up your end of the deal." She announced quietly, a sheet of wet hair obscuring her eyes for a moment before she pinned the pair with an icy glare. "But don't believe for a moment I won't return to collect your debt. COSETTE!"

Cosette flinched below the tree, hissing something to the snatcher in French before fixing her bloodshot eyes on her comrade. "_Quoi…_?"

"Move, you worthless cur," Leona ordered, crossing back to Cosette once more and wrenching her up by her sleeve this time, handling the trembling woman like a child's plaything. Cosette was more than happy to oblige, her fingers weaving into the dark feathers as she trembled and nodded. "We're leaving."

Cosette released a loud whimper at the sight of the harpy's remains before Leona gave her a particularly violent jerk and something dark burst from her back, shining bat's wings jutting over the rows and rows of headstones as her arms curled around Cosette, holding the woman fast to her breast. The leathery appendages beat once, twice, three times against the rain and the wind and the two were suddenly gone, nothing left in their wake save for a single tiny feather from the harpy's head fluttering down upon its corpse.

Ciel was free.

He fell to his knees, gasping for air as if he had not breathed throughout the entire ordeal. Tears of relief still clung to his eyes, clouding his vision as he doubled over, releasing several trembling laughs as he fought to regain air.

"My lord."

Finally, _finally_ Ciel was able to stare up into those claret eyes, just as dusk began to break through the clouds, shining a fox's wedding through the thick rain. Sebastian hovered over him, lips drawn into a taught line before he lowered himself to Ciel's height—in the mud, in the _filth_—and took him gently by the shoulders. Ciel felt Sebastian turn his cheek into his mouth, pressing so close against him despite the stares of both Agni and Soma pinned to their joined forms. He smeared Leona's blood over Ciel's cheek as he swept a graceless arc with his thumb below his master's eyes.

A million times over within the past weeks, Ciel had seen Sebastian's eyes cloud over with emotions that had before seemed utterly ridiculous upon the face of a _demon_. Regret, guilt, adoration, sincerity, shock—and now hurt. Heart clenching violently, Ciel dropped the bloody bundle from his gut, revealing the shallow gash across his abdomen.

"I lied." He said softly, triumph gleaming in his eyes. Sebastian stared back, dumbstruck—the shock on his face so misplaced and feline that Ciel had to fight back a giddy laugh, mind still reeling from the events that had unfolded around him. "I couldn't meet your eyes, or else I'd give it away. Since the child's scent is mixed in with my blood, I was certain I'd be able to fool them by keeping the cloth close to me." He explained, still watching realization slowly bloom over Sebastian's eyes. "The rest was acting. However, I knew that in order to fool them, I would have to fool you as well, Sebastian. If you weren't convinced, then they would obviously be unconvinced as well. Not to doubt you acting skills, of course." He added with a nervous, uncharacteristic laugh that floated about his head. Sebastian's lips lilted into a sad little smile as he curled his fingers beneath Ciel's chin.

"How clever of you, my lord." He remarked. Ciel smiled and fell into the demon's chest as the loss of blood finally swirled in into his awareness and black washed over his vision.

* * *

Several days passed without event.

Ciel first awoke in the master suite of the London estate hours later, Sebastian's warm body spread out beside him. Instantly, his hand fell upon his middle, just above the enflamed scar where the shallow wound had been earlier—Sebastian's fingers were entwined with his own mere moments after that, pulling the earl to the cradle of his chest and kissing him deeply for what seemed like an eternity. His tongue did not urgently part the seam of his lips, nor did his hands travel lower than the curve of Ciel's jaw. The kiss was chaste and too brief for the lifetime that it lasted when Sebastian pulled away and suggested that Ciel have something to eat, saying something about blood loss. But Ciel's mind was still reeling as Sebastian pulled away, never having truly come to a definite halt. His hands closed around the space where the demon's warm fingers had been before.

The next day Sebastian insisted that Ciel remain in bed.

The following day, Ciel insisted that he leave the bed, but gentle arms lowered him back down into the plush mattress and Sebastian threaded his fingers through Ciel's hair.

The day after that, Soma nearly managed to pound down the door and was finally allowed in, throwing himself to the foot of Ciel's bed as he sobbed and wailed on and on about how happy he was. This was also the day that Ciel resolved to return home.

The next morning, when the light was still weak and gray, Ciel sat in his window seat, cheek pressed flush against the glass as he started down upon the autumn garden: witch hazel, lupine and cyclamen glowing amethyst against the rich fall colors. The swirl of colors they created in his mind had finally became something whole and individual once more, and the notion sat well within him as he gazed up into the sky.

"It will be winter soon." He said to no one in particular. Maybe then the karner blue would freeze in its sleep and die. Perhaps lupine and cyclamen would wilt and the tiny blossoms of the witch hazel would flutter to the snowy ground. However, their seeds had been planted deep within the earth, and who was to say they would not return the next year more vivid than before? This notion made something warm within Ciel and he sighed, watching as the first snow of the year began to flutter down upon his estate in little flurries.

He remembered the first night and how stifled he had been beneath his sheets. Remembering the deep-seated pain in his chest called forth that dark hum within his breast and made him shiver: it was the first time that the regret had resurfaced since the second night when he had sewn Sebastian into his life and his heart with all finality. Though despite that old, hollow ache that should have been smarting anew, Ciel felt that the heaviness in his chest was in its rightful place. That mistake was his burden to bear, and no amount of regret or shame could unhinge the chain of events it had acted catalyst to—and despite every pain and every trial, he found that this sense of _now_ following the spinning events and colors of the past months that created his disillusionment was something that he truly enjoyed. Finally something familiar, but all together new, strange, and beautiful.

"My lord?" Sebastian said from the doorway. Ciel stared into his opaque reflection in the glass, watching the demon smile and turn his head to one side as he bowed deeply. "Your carriage has arrived."

"Are all the preparations made?" He inquired, climbing off of the window seat and allowing his butler to wrap a heavy mantle around his shoulders. Sebastian merely smiled.

"What would I be if I could not perform such a simple task for my lord?" He replied in question; Ciel sniffed in amusement as they made their way throughout the house—passed the place where the harpy had pinned Ciel to the wall, the parlor where Cosette had threatened them, and the threshold where the cabby had smoked and out into the front gardens lined in finely-trimmed shrubbery where Soma and Agni were waiting alongside the carriage.

Instantly, the prince snuffled loudly and released a wail, flinging himself at Ciel and twisting his arms around hm. The earl noticed Sebastian's brow tick in frustration before the demon turned to Agni, offering his hand.

"Ciel! You have to promise that you'll visit soon!" Soma was crying, rocking his friend back and forth as he buried his face into the crown of his head. "I want to see your baby, Ciel! It's going to be the most beautiful baby in the _world_! And I want to see you and Sebastian get married, too!"

"Are you an invalid?" Ciel grumbled, chagrined and fighting off an awful blush at the mental image of himself in a fanciful wedding gown.

"And I'm going to miss all your insults, _too_!" Soma heaved a sigh, pressing Ciel to his chest before the earl sighed as well and decided to wrap his arms around the prince, giving him a brief squeeze before pulling away. Soma stared at him in a mix of awe and disbelief before the earl turned his nose up and stalked towards the carriage.

"Well then; Agni. Master Soma." Sebastian bowed in turn to each of the foreigners, helping Ciel up onto the lip of the carriage before he climbed in and began to drape the blankets within over his lap. "Thank you for your hospitality. We shall be sure to visit in the near future on business."

"Be sure to write!" Soma cried as Agni bowed humbly. Ciel grinned as Sebastian climbed in after him and shut the carriage door. There was then the snap of reins and the cab clattered to life over the cobblestone streets. With a deep sigh, the earl leaned against the carriage door, running a hand through his hair and pressing the ball of his palm against his eyes.

"Are you glad to return home, my lord?" Sebastian asked, reaching across the carriage to set a gentle hand upon Ciel's thigh. The earl hummed, shrugging and dropped his hand, standing on uncertain feet before he wobbled over into Sebastian's grasp, bringing the heavy blanket along with him. "Be careful, darling." Sebastian suggested softly, and Ceil's heart suddenly clenched in gratitude as he shifted to his lover's side, resting his head upon the demon's shoulder. Sebastian's arm was twisted around him seconds later, holding him close as he trailed long fingers up and down his arm. Ciel sighed, content, and brought Sebastian's hand to his abdomen, feeling the demon's fingers tighten there uncertainly. Ciel glanced up into Sebastian's eyes, finding the butler staring straight ahead at the opposite side of the cab.

"Sebastian?" He quipped.

"Are you certain you wish to go through with this?" The raven-haired man inquired suddenly. Ciel nearly started, eyes narrowing in confusion.

"What do you mean, Sebastian? Have I not made myself clear?" He shook his head slowly, pulling away from the demon. "I've said in the past that this is what I want, and with those two out of the way we can—."

"They are still very much alive, my lord." Sebastian explained. "And they will be watching. You will have to be confined to the manor until the child is born, and even then they will come to discover its presence eventually—even beings other than our aggressors. Humans may be blind to such things, but there are many others who are bound to notice its presence eventually. While I refuse to let any harm come to your or our child, I know there will be hardships throughout our lives." Sebastian took Ciel's chin in his fingers, delicately turning his face towards him. "And trials. But not only for you, darling." He added gently, dipping his eyes down to Ciel's middle where his right hand was still curled. "Knowing this, do you still intend to finish what we have begun?"

Ciel was silent for a long while, the carriage jolting them several times before he pressed his face back into Sebastian's chest. "Yes." He said softly. "Yes, I do." It could have been a trick of the carriage's moment, but Ciel could have sworn he felt something unknot within the demon's chest below him. "However." He added softly, pulling away once more. "I would still feel guilty."

"Oh?" Sebastian quipped, arching his brow as he leaned forward, caressing Ciel's cheek. "And why would that be?"

"I will become your burden." Ciel mumbled, feeling his cheeks burn hot as the static images of Sebastian, claws tangled with Leona's, flashed throughout his mind—the moment the resolve hit him to _protect_—

And Sebastian's lips were crashing down upon his in gratitude, for Ciel had thanked him for the first time.

**End Part I**


	9. Aside: Athyrus Odoratus

"**Broken Pieces"**

**Aside**

**Athyrus Odoratus**

"_Hope is the thing with feathers_

_That perches in the soul,_

_And sings the tune—without the words,_

_And never stops at all,_

_And sweetest in the gale is heard;_

_And sore myst be the storm_

_That could abash the little bird_

_That kept so many warm._

_I've heard it in the chilliest land,_

_And on the strangest sea;_

_Yet, never, in extremity,_

_It asked a crumb of me._"

Emily Dickinson (Hope)

Contrary to what many on the social scene believed (and even herself, given the amount of criticism from her peers throughout her adolescence), Elizabeth Middleford was an indisputably brilliant girl. While many would laugh at this assertion and go on to mock the young woman as a fool, the proper word to describe Elizabeth would be blithe. The young lady had a tendency to take oppressive issues at hand and store them neatly in the back of her mind for safekeeping. Such was a stark contrast to the propensities of her mother, which were to charge forth at any obstacle and beat it into submission. Elizabeth herself often supposed that her own personal penchant had been inherited from her father, who had encouraged his beloved daughter to enjoy her youth to the fullest.

The man had undoubtedly spoiled his child rotten and made sure to breed her for a life of luxury and compliancy (that _other business_ notwithstanding). If Elizabeth were to accept her spot as a proper daughter of the Middlefords, make a good name for her family, and marry into the wealthy family line of her cousin, then she would undoubtedly be handed every trinket she longed for on a silver platter until the end of her years.

While Elizabeth had upheld these expectations to her very best, it appeared as if the pristine image of a lady she attempted to uphold was overtly affected by the childlike excitability she possessed. While this deterred many, including her betrothed on occasion, the girl's display of the sincerest goodwill and joy seemed to draw people to her.

Elizabeth often buried every tiny worry under her beaming personality. Of course, she had not a thing to worry about, as she had followed her parents' orders to the very minute detail and was bound to reap the rewards. Yet still—though she smothered harsher realities in girlish giggles and cheer—_it _was still ever present.

She saw the way Ciel looked at Sebastian.

'_Perhaps_,' Thought she, at a much later point in life. '_I knew the way he felt before he felt it himself_.'

It had been a side-effect that had blossomed alongside the _other business_, this keen ability to read others before they had even made a move, to sense the ripples within a man's movement and manipulate them into thoughts and form within her mind. But as she had grown and matured, Elizabeth had taken this knack for reading the subtleties of others and—in place of burying it along with all the other unpleasant things in her mind—had used it to the advantage of her dear friends on the social scene. At first, Lizzy-was-just-a-silly-girl-gossiping, but when Baron So-and-so had been caught in a compromising position with Lady This-and-that (just as Elizabeth had predicted) their tunes had begun to change in her favor.

It was safe to say that Elizabeth (ever thinking of her friends for she had not the slightest problem with her perfect life what-so-ever, no sir!) did not use this skill for her own benefit outside of that _other business_. For whenever she attempted to, it would only make her heart that much heavier.

It was late into her eighteenth September, when the leaves had turned from green to goldenrod, that Elizabeth first fancied a call to Ciel after several weeks of silence. Yet three calls later, there had been no answer. As Sebastian never failed to pick up the phone, she supposed that master and butler were out upon a shopping excursion. She wrote a letter instead.

_17 September 1892_

_ My Dearest Ciel,_

_How I have missed you so in the past fortnight! Things have been silent between us during this time, so I wish that you will find comfort through this letter knowing that you are on my mind! I was considering proposing a visit to your manor (if it is not unkind of me to do so) later in this month, as I cannot bear to be without you for this long. I wish to hear from you shortly._

_ With love,_

_ Lizzy_

Sebastian's reply came shortly thereafter—a prompt, single day, to be quite precise.

_18 September 1892_

_ Dear Lady Elizabeth,_

_I write now on behalf of my young master. In the last fortnight since you have seen him, he has become afflicted with a mild illness. I assure you that this is nothing to concern yourself over, my ladyship, as I am certain he will make a healthy recovery in no time. Meanwhile, young master has specified to myself that he is too ill to produce a suitable reply at the time being, and apologizes deeply._

_ Regards,_

_ Sebastian Michælis_

A curt response, as typical of Ciel and his butler. Elizabeth folded the paper in her lap and gazed out the window. She was certain that if her fiancé's affliction was 'mild' as his servant has described it, then he would be able to articulate a proper response to the butler, at the very least. He could have even chosen to encourage more letters from Elizabeth.

But with such a precise yet vague reply, it was quite clear to Elizabeth that any further letters would prove to be an annoyance. If the so-called fool knew anything, it was how to identify a hint when she was presented with one.

* * *

In December, Elizabeth prayed for Ciel.

Of course, she had prayed for Ciel every day since she discovered he was ill, but after a brief visit with the governor of his London estate, her bones had been chilled.

"Ciel is… _very _sick." Soma had confirmed over tea, shuffling in place for the umpteenth time. He looked extremely uncomfortable there in his own parlor, scratching nervously at his neck and attempting to keep his eyes pinned on a tapestry beyond the blonde's head. "Very sick. It would be best if you didn't see him for a couple of months. He tried to come here for several weeks to get away from the manor, but Sebastian doesn't like people around him. The… _situation_ only made his… _condition_ worse a-and it's better for him to be isolated."

"I was not aware it was such a horrible affliction." Said the young lady softly, staring down into the amber surface of her tea. The foreigner began to wave his arms, shaking his head back and forth—the bangles knocking against one another made him sound like a bell come to life.

"I-it's not! It's just… he went through a lot when he was here. Emotionally, I mean." The prince shuffled back into a relaxed position. Elizabeth blinked wide, green eyes at Soma, confused. "It's… he needs time away… and… I'm sorry but I can't tell you much more than that. I don't want to worry you, Lady Elizabeth."

And that was that.

Ciel did not want her knowing.

Perhaps it was an illness of the mind? She remembered seven years prior when the earl had first returned from—from wherever he had been following his parents' death. How blank his single eye had looked! It was as if all joy had been sucked from his expression. She had often heard of people becoming shells when they lost their families, but had never seen this until it happened to Ciel. He had been a gaunt, empty little seashell stripped of its color and luster. For the first six months, he had hardly talked. He sat at the window of his London estate, staring down at the melting snow, head bobbing to his pulse; someone had taken his brilliant canvas and painted over it with a stark, startling white.

If he had become like that again, then Elizabeth couldn't blame him for not wanting her to know. Because she had cried when she saw him like that—a catatonic doll—she had cried, and trembled, and _screamed_ because in her perfect, flawless life Ciel would grow to become a perfect, flawless husband and walk her down the aisle with a gentleman's grin on his lips.

Was this why she had first prayed? Why she had devoted herself to making him smile? To keep herself from becoming disillusioned, yes. Because she was just a child, and if she could slap a few colors onto the canvas and call it art, it could very well work out wonderfully for herself.

But perhaps, this time around she prayed as an adult. Not for herself and a flawless life that did not exist, but for—

"Paula, have the coachman stop the carriage." The young woman had said to her maid on the way from Ciel's London estate. "I would like to pick up some oil paints."

* * *

"Your concentration is lacking today, little sister. Touché."

Elizabeth twitched when the tip of the sabre kissed her shoulder before she even had time to shrug away. Frustrated, she whipped her blade about the length of Edward's own, pressing it into his chest guard with more force than she usually would have bestowed upon her beloved brother. Edward made a frustrated noise below his breath, their sabres whistling as she lunged and the siblings crossed arms, the weapons snapping with finality. Elizabeth grit her teeth, limbs trembling as she struck Edward in the shoulder with a nasty _snap_ and thrust the button into his neck.

"Elizabeth—." He began, movements faltering. The petite swordswoman did not listen and chose instead to pummel her elder brother with graceful strikes, crying out incoherently whenever she struck. "_Elizabeth_!"

Edward crossed his forearms in front of his mesh mask as Elizabeth bore down upon them with merciless strikes. "_I. Can't._" She sobbed, finally casting aside the sabre and falling to her knees. Edward removed his mask, kneeling down beside his sister to pry away the mesh casing that concealed her face.

"What can't you do, Elizabeth?" He inquired gently, running his hands through her hair, brushing his thumb over the peak of her temple. The young woman gave a start, causing Edward to leap as she threw herself into his arms and proceeded to bawl into his chest. Ever the mindful sibling, Edward began to rub circles on the small of her back, pressing a kiss into the mess of yellow curls. "Tell me what you cannot do, Elizabeth."

"I can't protect Ciel from everything." Elizabeth confided, her body rigid and tremulous in Edward's arms. "I can't… _I can't! _He doesn't… he doesn't even _want_ me, Edward!"

At those words she felt her brother stiffen, his arms winding around her even tighter. "It isn't like I would very well let him _have _you, Eliz—."

"We were supposed to wed two years ago." She grounded her brother's possessive rant before it even had the chance to take flight. "But a date was never made, Edward. Ciel says he loves me and yet," She felt her face pinch, scrunching into something horrible, warped, and ugly. "And yet he refuses to allow me to protect him!"

"A husband should usually protect his wife," Edward sighed, hands still threaded deep within his sister's hair. "Mother has raised us with unique ideals, Elizabeth. Indeed he would be hesitant to let the one he loves protect him when he should very well be protecting _her_—."

"He loves another, I think." Elizabeth admitted, unsurprised as her brother began to shake in rage alongside her own distressed trembles. "And yet he allows that person to protect him in ways I never could."

The elder Middleford child pulled away, blinking stunned green eyes at his sister. "What other woman could protect a man?"

Elizabeth did not reply, she merely wept.

* * *

She had never spoken with the Undertaker before.

Indeed, Elizabeth had always seen the strange man out of the corner of her eye. Lurking in the corner of the billiards room when her Uncle Vincent had still been alive, attending the procession at her Aunt and Uncle's funerals, leading the hearse at Madame Red's.

It was not that the man scared her from his appearance, oddly enough. Not even the crooked grin he donned whenever she had laid eyes upon him had managed to shake her. Perhaps it was because of her ability to see _through _that grin, and to know that there was a reason he smiled like that—broken people often hid behind queer façades—and Elizabeth did not want to encounter yet another broken person in her young, unmarred life.

However.

"Sir, you appear to be quite fond of Elizabethan-era literature and theatre." Lizzy said, extracting a large tome from his collection. The funeral director sat across from her on a coffin, and between them was a plush casket and a small end table, upon which sat a pot of rosehip tea and a plate of bone-shaped biscuits.

"Oh no, t'wasn't mine." Said he.

"Who's collection was it, then, if you do not mind my asking?" She turned her eyes upon him, and his broken grin faltered.

Elizabeth winced, "I apologize for intruding, Mister…?"

"Fehr."

"My deepest condolences, Mister Fehr. I did not mean to upset you."

"N'matter."

"Mister Fehr." Elizabeth sat down upon the casket opposite him, resting the copy of _Cymbeline _beside her. "Won't you please tell me what has happened with Ciel these past months? I have been unable to get into communication with _anyone_ other than his maid, and for only a brief amount of time at that… yet she said nearly nothing." Her brow knit. "I _need_ to know if he's ailing still yet… I heard he was ill and I can hardly sleep at night _knowing_…" She bit her lips then, worrying her gloves against her skirt in a way that was most certainly not ladylike. "He has always kept so much from me, and I suppose it is for the best. However, to lock himself up in his mansion for months on end—!"

"Love." The white-haired man sighed, a melancholy grin tugging on his lips. He looked so sincere, and it warmed her heart as much as it wounded it. "You're a good lovie, don't forget that. Guv's been in a bit've a pinch lately, but 'e's in good 'ands now. I can assure you that."

After she thanked him and took her leave, Elizabeth rested herself against the carriage and sobbed in relief.

In March, a letter arrived.

* * *

It was an odd March indeed—at the slightest sign of sunrays, the icicles melted from her mother's favorite plum trees and tiny buds of the deepest pink began to form upon their limbs. A book was laid open upon the young lady's windowsill as her eyes darted between the pictures and her canvas—the project was coming along swimmingly for one of her first experiments with painting. It was one of those rare instances where life seemed to ebb into the background—all of her focus bestowed upon herself and her work. It was almost like how her mother had described her own swordsmanship.

"_One day Elizabeth,_" She had said, "_These blades will become extensions not only of your body, but of your soul. There will only be the battle in your mind, body, and heart—and when you feel that, you have truly mastered it_."

'_I wish I could be like that with my swords_,' Elizabeth thought distantly, gracing the canvas with another delicate arc of pink. '_But not now. Now there is another battle in my heart—I'm sorry Mother, but I cannot devote _that _part of me to the blade until its first conflict is over with_.'

"Young mistress?" Paula's voice quipped, tapping the door to the study softly before it creaked open. The young maid curtsied, gripping a letter to the apron pinched between her fingers. "I apologize for interrupting, but a letter has arrived for you."

"A letter?" Elizabeth interrupted, dipping her brush into a tiny cup of cleaning solvent and wiping the residue away with a blotched cloth. "From who?"

Paula's face lit up like a tree in December as she held the neat envelope out to her charge. "From Earl Phantomhive!" She declared happily.

Elizabeth's heart nearly skipped a beat, pinching delicately in her chest as she took several speedy strides across the room and gathered the envelope into her hands. Indeed, Ciel's handwriting graced the parchment, the thing sealed closed with blue-pressed wax. Hastily, the young woman raced to her father's writing desk and unearthed a jewel-encrusted paper knife, slitting open the letter and greedily devouring the contents with her eyes.

_14 March 1893_

_ My dearest Lizzy,_

_I am deeply sorry for the lack in correspondence during the past several months. As Sebastian has let you know, I have fallen rather ill and I was unable to properly articulate myself for some time. However, you needn't worry because I am in the process of regaining my health—the cold weather has made the process difficult, but the doctor I am seeing says that I shall be able to have company in the summer._

_I want to let you know that you have indeed been in my thoughts. Never doubt that, my dearest cousin._

_ With love,_

_ Earl Ciel Phantomhive_

* * *

_15 March 1893_

_ Ciel,_

_It is so wonderful to finally hear from you after all of this time! I was beginning to think that you had forgotten about me—however much I would like to believe I am in your thoughts as much as you are in mine. I am glad to hear that your health is improving! While I am upset that you did not let me know of your affliction earlier, I am simultaneously relieved that you did not bog me down with the icky details! I am curious, however, as to how you spend your days? (I will assume that you haven't been designing toys—there have been no new products from Funtom as of late, despite the fact that business seems to be booming. Even in your ill health, you are a master entrepreneur!) In lieu of you becoming bored while bedridden, I have included a favourite novel of mine by one Charlotte Bront__ë__. I know that you do love your literature, and I hope that a good love story will help to cheer you up! _

_ Love,_

_ Elizabeth_

* * *

_21 March 1893_

_ Lizzy,_

_I would first like to assure you that you have crossed my thoughts many times as of late. I am also glad that Funtom is holding up business in my leave, though I assure you that this is due to the fact that I have appointed others to take up many of my tasks during my time away. My days are very quiet, and I often find myself confined to my bed for hours at a time; whenever I am not held back by my illness, Sebastian does his best to entertain me. I have taken a liking to Elizabethan-era literature, as per recommendation of a colleague (who has taken it upon himself to gift me with boxes upon boxes of dusty Shakespearian tomes). I send with this letter a small parcel from his collection as thanks for the novel you've sent to me. It is pleasant to be able to crack open _Jane Eyre _and read it cover-to-cover, as I have had Bront__ë__ on my mind in the past few months._

_ Ciel_

* * *

The letters continued, back and forth with week-long intervals between them. In late March, Nina Hopkins visited to begin preparing her designs for Lizzy's Easter garb, flailing about as she drafted her patterns and gossiping airily about the aristocrats she served, gushing over the busty noblewomen and their adorable children. March soon melted away into April, the plum blossoms fluttered down like deep pink snow on the grounds of the estate. Elizabeth continued to train, often in the privacy of the gardens as the weather would allow. She felt limber as she twirled and slashed, delighting in her parents' faces glowing with pride. In her spare time, the young woman often saw to her painting project, working a bit every time one of Ciel's letters arrived. Soon April was fading fast, giving way to May and the cool rainstorms—

And then the letters abruptly stopped.

Elizabeth had grown so used to Ciel's letters arriving every Tuesday morning (sending out her own on Wednesdays) that she felt quite sincerely displaced when Paula arrived in the study empty handed.

"A letter did not come today, Miss." She reported with a weak smile, sadly sighing when she saw Elizabeth's beaming smile falter. "I-it's quite alright! I'm certain something merely came up—o-or perhaps the post—."

"He said he was getting better…" Elizabeth said quietly, more to herself than to the meek maid. "What if he's fallen ill once more? What if he—?"

She caught herself, choking down the secret horror and attempting to ruthlessly shove it into the back of her mind, into the place where she stored all other unpleasant things. But the fear refused to go, welling up in her breast like an awful beast. Elizabeth turned to face the tall window of the drawing room, pressing her hands against the cold panes. Rain beat down against her palms, separated from the elements by that thin layer of glass.

"My lady—!" Paula gasped as Elizabeth tore past her. The pink-clad lass charged into the halls and up the sweeping staircase, taking the steps two at a time. Skirts grasped tightly, she burst into her bedroom, wrenching her best cloak from her closet before crying out and throwing it to the floor. Somewhere in the depths of the manor, Elizabeth could hear her mother barking about the ruckus and Paula clambering up the stairs, shouting in distress. The young woman pressed on regardless, nearly shoving her maid out of the way as she leapt down the stairs, threw herself through the foyer, and burst through the front doors.

Eyes cast heavenward, Elizabeth sunk to her knees, allowing the water to take her, feeling it soak her dress and color it a deeper shade. Numbly, she curled unto herself and shook as she attempted to take the falling pieces of the sky into her, but to no avail—she was a slick of perfumed oil floating on the top of a clear body of water. Try as she may, the two would never mix, no matter the force with which she attempted to beat them together. Such childish notions! Inexplicably, it disgusted her and yet—

Elizabeth picked herself up, attempting to dry her face on an already-soaked sleeve. A late letter was no cause for such dramatics. The world would continue to spin, despite the broken idea of her pretty little life.

* * *

In late May, as Elizabeth was finally finishing her project, a letter finally arrived.

For the first time since August of the prior year, she was invited to Ciel's manor.

Apparently, his illness had momentarily taken a turn for the worse before clearing up entirely. The earl was not yet ready to leave his estate, but was slowly beginning to ease himself back into business. Quickly, Elizabeth arranged to be dressed in her finest toilette—a cream colored visiting gown accented with lavender and trimmed with green silk. She wore her hair up in loose curls.

Stomach in knots, she climbed from the carriage; Sebastian's outstretched hand awaiting her. She fell into the very bewildered butler's arms, bestowing upon him a hearty embrace and a kiss upon the cheek. Beaming, she allowed him to lead her by the arm into the estate, where she would find her cousin awaiting her arrival.

Upon crossing the threshold, however, something seemed strange.

'_It is not necessarily _strange_._' Elizabeth amended herself, her grin faltering. '_Merely… something is quite… _different. _Yes, the air of the household is _much_ different_.'

At that thought, a gentle mewl echoed through the vast halls. A tremor—(something a gentlewoman untrained by the way of the swordsman never would have noticed)—ran through Sebastian's arms and he met Elizabeth's peering eyes.

"We have… a rather permanent small guest." He explained, returning her bewildered expression with one of unbridled joy. This was not the usual, snarking sarcasm that the demon bestowed upon those surrounding him, but something gentle and most genuine.

It suddenly occurred to Elizabeth that it was not the household that was different, it was Sebastian.

"A small guest?" She inquired, tilting her head to the side.

"A cousin of mine—her father perished of influenza over the winter and her mother unfortunately died in childbirth earlier this month."

'_Earlier this month?_'

"Being her last remaining kin, I was asked to take her in. As a mere butler, I was forced to refuse, but Master Ciel—in all his kindness—."

'_Ciel?_'

"—recently agreed to take the child in as his ward."

Elizabeth stared, perplexed, as they ascended the stairs to Ciel's office. Something—yes, something had certainly changed. Something was certainly—

The mewl sounded out again and Sebastian flashed the young woman an apologetic look.

The gears churning ever faster in her head, Elizabeth allowed herself to be led up the stairs and down the hallway, into a quiet room juxtapose Ciel's that usually served as a guestroom. It smelled faintly of powder, as well as something curiously heavy. A smiling Maylene bustled from the room with a slight curtsey to Elizabeth, her cheeks flushed in happiness. The young noblewoman's eyes swept from the maid's form to the violet frills of a bassinette, over which her cousin stood, reaching down to placate the child within. His brilliant odd-eyes flickered up to meet hers and he _smiled_.

The gears in her head whirred to a sudden stop, clicking into place.

"_Oh_." Elizabeth said under her breath.

Gracefully, the earl extended a hand and Elizabeth began to drift across the room, her grip on Sebastian's arm slackening. As she timidly approached, she first took note of Ciel's height—upon their last meeting they had nearly stood eye-to-eye, but now Ciel stood several inches taller. There was something strange about his frame—still sinewy in the limbs, but newly wider in the hips in a way more androgynous than feminine. He looked exhausted—like someone who had lost a great amount of sleep and weight in a _very_ short amount of time—but he was not pale with fatigue. Instead there seemed to be a new, genteel hue to the apples of his cheeks. His smile was warm and his eye—oh, his _eye_! To see it peering back at her so kindly after all this time— it brought such pleasant warmth to her chest!

Finally, Elizabeth took his soft hand in her calloused one. Ciel gently pressed her close to his side and then towards the crib.

"Elizabeth," He said. "This is Ophelia."

The tiny stranger stared up at the blonde woman with wide, auburn eyes. Wispy black hair adorned her head, and little fists were balled up close to her scrunched face. The child seemed less alarmed than intrigued, however. The two creatures stared at one another or several solid seconds before the child deemed Elizabeth worthy and reached out with a chubby hand, gurgling pleasantly as she flailed.

The young woman's breath hitched, the sting of tears nipping at her eyes as she reached forward to offer a finger to little Ophelia Phantomhive—the babe latched on, gnawing at the appendage with sharp little teeth poking though her gums.

"_Ophelia_." Ciel said very, very lowly—his tone something just cross enough to be stern. Even as the child's bite inexplicably softened in response, Elizabeth shook her head, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

"No," She sniffed. "No, no Ciel. No, it's quite alright, I don't mind one bit."

The earl blinked and, slightly abashed, recoiled into himself. "Ah… Lizzy, you're—."

"I'm fine." Elizabeth giggled through her sobs, reaching out to caress the child's cheek. "Oh Ciel… oh, she is _so_ _beautiful_."

"Thank you." The earl said softly, his voice humming with gentle pride. Elizabeth leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the babe's brow, melting when Ophelia cooed like a pleased kitten. "I'm—she usually doesn't let people this close… she must love you already, Elizabeth."

"I love her, too." The girl nodded, pulling away from the child and wiping her own tears from the baby's hair. "I…"

The baby yawned, squirming deeper into her plush cocoon of blankets, but never releasing Elizabeth's finger. Though her heart clenched, Elizabeth wiped her face dry and turned to her cousin with a sad smile and a new resolve.

"Thank you for sharing this with me, Ciel."

She turned to Sebastian, who stood vigilant in the doorway. His brow quirked when she inclined her head towards him.

"Thank you."

When she returned home that evening, Elizabeth silently headed for the drawing room and quietly finished her painting. In the morning, when it had dried, she drafted a letter and sent the parcel away to be framed and gifted to Ciel.

* * *

_15 June 1893_

_ Elizabeth,_

_While it is unfortunate that it came to this, I must agree with your request to call the engagement off. I hope that your parents will accept this mutual decision and will kindly allow you to choose your own beloved, as I shall do as well. Your decision is understandable, given my neglect of our relationship over the past year; I apologize deeply for my unkind actions. Despite everything, you are still my cousin and one of my closest friends. You deserved to be treated with more care than the little I bestowed upon you. You are welcome into my home at any time—Ophelia loves you, and will love having you as a Godmother._

_Thank you so kindly for the gift you have bestowed unto my family._

_ With love,_

_ Ciel_

_PS I have included a prototype for the newest toy I have designed for Funtom after my absence—it is called Sweet Rabbit, and I daresay that your influence upon the design is clear._

_PPS I hope you enjoy the bouquet as much as I did your painting of the sweet peas; it is hanging above Ophelia's crib._

Elizabeth folded the blotched letter and placed it to the side of the desk, gently taking one of the sweet pea blossoms between her fingers. In her lap sat the pink, plush prototype of Sweet Rabbit, a silvery sword was sewed into its paw and a pink velvet bow was nestled in the white lace of its collar.

* * *

"Hope,"—it has been said—"Is the thing with feathers."

For the longest time, Elizabeth had grasped her hope tightly; clutching it like it was a squirming thrush, constantly flailing for escape. Though it was a small thing, its presence in her hands was quite large as she wrestled it to her breast. Eyes wide with childlike naivety, she believed the bird to be her pet, her one constant and her truest companion—but with age came the realization that the small bird would never submit to her struggles. Over the years, her grip lessened and finally, she released her clutch upon the exhausted thing.

But even as she bore it towards the sky, it did not leave. It merely rested within her hands and, curiously, turned to watch her with its eyes like beautiful glass beads. The nightingale watched her for a solid moment and finally it left the weakened cup of her hands, the tips of its wings kissing her fingers as it went.

The bird left for the sky and even as Elizabeth watched it go, she felt a sense of relief—there was no longer the struggle to smother it close. Indeed, the bird was free—but strangely, she was as well.

There was no need to cling desperately to that hope anymore, because Elizabeth had what she was hoping for all along: Ciel was safe. Ciel was loved. Ciel was _free_.

And even as Elizabeth surrendered herself to the cool summer gale, arms thrown wide in an attempt to embrace the intangible, she smiled: for it was the thrush's grateful tune that was carried over the wind.

* * *

**AN: **I hope all of you enjoyed the aside! I certainly haven't forgotten about Lizzy, and I wanted to give her proper recognition, as she's actually become one of my favorite characters. Also, we finally get to meet Ophelia! Its been incredibly difficult keeping her name and gender a secret for two whole years! As you can see, the new version of Arc II is going to be vastly different from the original- I have the intermission and chapter nine ready to be put up, so look for the **Intermission on June 17** and **chapter nine on June 24**!

Also, due to the recent enforcing of the 'no detailed sex scenes' rule, I've had to make major edits to chapters one, six, and seven. I'll be posting links to the unedited chapters on my profile as soon as I have a chance to get them up on google docs. Additionally, if any new chapters happen to have adult content, I'll be sure to let you know in the author's note and provide access to an unedited version.


	10. Intermission: Aconitum

"**Broken Pieces"**

**By Chocolate Moosey**

**Intermission I**

**Aconitum**

"_When __first the morning light is seen  
To glimmer on the dewy green,  
And make the spider's filmy net  
Like a bride's veil with diamonds set;  
And when the sun, in royal state,  
Comes where cloud-courtiers grouping wait,  
His beaming smile and look of grace  
Given back from each attendant's face;  
All rosy morning hues are mine—  
'I __only count __the __hours __that __shine.'_ "

Helen Agusta Greggs (Inscription from the Florentine Sundial)

**June 1893**

Even in the night the summer air was balmy and perfumed with the musk of the forest encasing the manor. Leona Fitzpatrick was seated upon a plush parlor couch of the deepest blue, arranging her luscious golden locks into a bun sensible for the task she was about to perform. The only light radiated from a pair of gas lamps flanking a Souchon print, the amber glow tainting the sleeping effigy's milky skin a garish shade of yellow. The succubus released a gentle sigh and took to her feet, taffeta skirt hushing about her heels as she moved across the room to the window. Once opened, it provided little relief from the static air within the chamber, only filling the room with the shrill symphony of a thousand crickets.

At that point, the door finally creaked open and a maid clothed in dark colours stepped in, a trembling form splayed out over her arms. A butler followed close on her heels and set a small wooden box upon the floor, then shutting the door with a _click_ that caused the child to flinch.

Leona smiled.

"My illusive host has chosen not to be present?"

"My master sends his apologies," The butler bowed deeply, causing the succubus' lips to curl up into an unattractive sneer. "But he is not fond of…" His eyes flickered in the low light as he paused. "Bloodshed."

Leona's sneer broadened into a saccharine smile and she gave a facetious nod of her head. "Ah." Almost immediately, her green eyes fell to the form of the shivering child that the maid had sprawled out over the fainting couch opposite her.

Her eyebrows rose, duly impressed. "He's quite young."

"Only eleven." The maid said very softly; her eyes were cast down gazing at the child with something like _pity_ as it writhed and contorted around its distended middle. Leona fought down a scoff, contorting the noise into a sigh as she rolled up her sleeves, turning to a provided washbasin of blue-and-ivory china that rested upon an oriental lacquered side table.

"It's pleasant to be dealing with _sane_ individuals for once." She quipped airily, extending her claws and beginning to douse them in the refreshing water.

"Oh?" The butler prompted, propping himself up against the door nonchalantly. The maid was still kneeling beside the child, brushing sweat-drenched blond curls from its bloodshot eyes.

"Hn, yes." Leona reached for a towel, dabbing her hands dry. "Just this November, I had a run-in with a caulist that had managed to impregnate a human earl."

The butler sniffed, his thin lips twitching into a parody of a grin as he gazed over his shoulder, as if glaring through the mansion's walls and into the chamber of his own master. "What a revolting thought."

"Indeed." Leona commented, holding her hands out in front of her, as if they were contaminated. She glanced at the maid, who was methodically stripping the child of its clothing. The youth moaned terribly and clutched at the rise of its middle, which was slicked with sweat, much like the rest of its body. "Would you be a dear and stuff its mouth with a tea towel?"

The maid's shoulders seized for a moment, and she cast a look of contempt over her shoulder at the succubus. Leona merely smiled, challenging the deep blue eyes. Never breaking her gaze from Leona, the maid extracted a small cloth from her pocket and pressed it into the child's mouth. The blond child squealed, the sounds muffled from beneath the cotton as its tongue thrust against the towel, shoving it out. The maid pressed it deeper, looking pained, pinning the feverish child's arms above its head.

"Two months of cat-and-mouse," Leona continued her story, gazing at the thrashing child's distended belly. If she didn't intend to kill the human, she'd need to strike quickly. "I suppose the Caulist _mated_ the human, because he seemed quite fond of the abomination. Neither would listen to reason, but in the end—."

She drove the tips of her claws into the child's middle, as if to make her point. The blond howled into the towel occupying its mouth, horrified sobs easing their way under Leona's skin, grating against her nerves. It would be _so easy_ to just shut the human up once and for all at this very moment. Just a simple flick of the wrist could silence it forever.

The child's back arched as she extracted the bloody, dripping contents of its middle, depositing them within the washbasin with little relish. Leona flicked her claws into the tiny mass of flesh, a beadlike black eye peering back at her through the red water. The child was still howling in pain as the maid began to empty the box sitting beside her on the floor, pressing cotton and gauze into the wound Leona's precise extraction had created.

Within a moment, the basin had been emptied of its macabre inhabitant, and the butler was pouring cold water over Leona's sullied hands. Her head lulled back on her shoulders as she allowed him to scrub them clean, removing the residue that had gathered beneath her claws.

"Yes," She said, a note of exasperated exhaustion in her voice. "In the end, the damn brat took care of the abomination himself. It was quite unsatisfying to say the least."

"Forgive me from speaking out of place, but—you left them alive?" The butler inquired, his brows rising a bit.

Leona smiled, the child's shrieks accenting her sick joy. "Of course."

He grinned in understanding. "You have something planned for them, then?"

Leona removed her hands from the bowl, and the man began to gingerly pat them dry, "The best kind of punishment is the type that is exacted when one is least expecting it. No." Leona rolled her sleeves back down, turning away from the butler to place herself upon the couch once more. She gazed across the room at the display of the sobbing, bleeding child, self-satisfaction curling in her chest like a content animal. "Oh no. I'll let them go. I'll let them run and love and whip themselves into _such_ an ecstasy, and I'll slaughter them at the _pinnacle_ of their love."

"If it is not out of my place to ask, how do you plan to do that, my lady?" The butler asked. The child had finally stopped writhing, and had managed to push the cloth from its mouth. The human was currently drooling on itself, sobs reduced to mangled gurgles as it secured a bloody fist around a lock of the maid's pale hair.

Leona rolled her eyes. "My _associate_ has decided to indulge herself in the first step." The succubus rotated her shoulders, releasing Cosette-induced pressure from her frame. "There was a reason that you called for Mademoiselle Brun and were rewarded with me instead."

"Though we were more than flattered to be graced by your presence, my lady, I must admit that I was curious as to where the Mademoiselle had wondered off to. She is most renowned for her abilities considering extermination and it was quite surprising to hear that she refused this."

"She _obsessed_," Leona drawled. "And she certainly has something in store for this Doriæn Dante."

The butler's frame quivered to attention.

"She's planning to break into the reaper's archives to change the contract." Leona explained, half-heartedly regarding her now-clean claws in the flickering amber light. "It's bound to be amusing at the very least—she's like a child that thinks it's clever."

"What of Doriæn Dante then, my lady?" The butler pressed, a bit too quickly for Leona's tastes. He was a very _curious _individual, to say the least. The maid stood, gathering the now-unconscious child up into her arms, the butler held the door aloft for her, a shard of cold light falling over his golden eyes.

"Why are you so interested all of the sudden?" Leona smirked, coyly brushing her fingers over her lips as her interest piqued. "Would you happen to know him?"

He merely smiled.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hey remember that time I said I'd be posting this on Sunday the 17th? Neither do I BD

Anywho, since the response from the aside was so overwhelmingly positive, I decided to give you guys this little something earlier than I promised as a treat! I'm curious to know what you guys think is happening, because all is not as it seems.


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